I’ll Get On Up Out Of This Tree

I’ll get on up out of this tree,

Corridor of emptiness,

Pine cones waiting patiently for the change of weather,

When driving into stone walls do you see what’s on the other side?

Only if the shoulders of man permit you height, 

But that tree you’re perched on is taller than any man,

I’ll get on up out of this tree,

Kneel upon the branches, 

Pressed under knee, 

Bark pressed under hand, 

Who planted the first seed?

How is it that the the snail that once binged in the mud is now set in rock?

How can he be freed?

I’ll get on up out of this tree, 

Sunny seasons that singe the skin cause happiness,

Yet moths to a flame are stupid,

Nature wants to nurture,

But you only want it’s best,

Where the cow eats the grass,

Is the greenest side of life,

What makes you want to run on astroturf and on haven fields leave your mess?

I’ll get on up out of this tree.