The Trees

I took an air-rifle, shot a magpie to the ground

And it died without a sound

Your skin so pale against the fallen Autumn leaves

And no-one saw us but the trees

Yeah, the trees, those useless trees

Produce the air that I am breathing

Yeah, the trees, those useless trees;

They never said that you were leaving

I carved your name with a heart just up above

- now swollen, distorted, unrecognisable; like our love

The smell of leaf mould & the sweetness of decay
Are the incense at the funeral procession here, today

In the trees, those useless trees,

Produce the air that I am breathing

Yeah, the trees, those useless trees;

They never said that you were leaving
You try to shape the world to what you want the world to be

Carving your name a thousand times won't bring you back to me

Oh no, no I might as well go and tell it to the trees
Go and tell it to the trees, yeah