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Footsteps on the cold ground
Lead straight to your door
And the birds in my tangled tree
Sing of love but call to war

Beautiful birds are not meant to be caged
You should have been true to your wings
You should have flown away

So left my tangled tree
That once bore strong branches and leaves of green
But how cruel and inevitable the passing of time can be

This tangled tree
Watched every inch of its majesty fade
With fall of every leaf

It always seemed to call me
The crooked stoop, the bend and swoop
Of its complicated beauty

They cut it up to burn it down

Bright lights rise out and over the fire

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.