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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 and the sweetness of decay
are the incense at the funeral procession here, today.
in the trees, those useless trees, etc.
you try to shape the world to what you want the world to be.
carving your name a thousand times wonand'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.
Pulp
The Trees
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 and the sweetness of decay
are the incense at the funeral procession here, today.
in the trees, those useless trees, etc.
you try to shape the world to what you want the world to be.
carving your name a thousand times wonand'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.
