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The Trees
by
Pulp
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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 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, I might as well I might as well just go and tell it to the trees Oh 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 Go and tell it to the trees, yeah Go and tell it to the trees, yeah Go and tell it to the trees, yeah Go and tell it to the trees, yeah Go and tell it to the trees, yeah
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