it's too early to think...
everything is dead...
nothing wants to live...
everything is free...
burning in the past...
falling from the skies...
dieing on the wind...
laughing at the trees...
crying with the flames...
as the wind blows by...
i think i want to die...
but as i burn away...
i think i want to cry...
and as they bury me...
i gaze up at the trees...
they're all laughing...
laughing at me...
me as i died...
me as i lived...
me as everything i was...
everything they saw...
they're laughing...
have you ever spoken with the trees?
did they say anything bad about me?
did they make stupid jokes?
or ask questions about me?
did they want to know...
know things about you...
don't tell them this...
'cause they'll laugh...
they'll laugh at you too...
it's not that things are funny...
it's not that things are strange...
it's just that tree's don't do much...
but laugh at everything...
they're laughing as we speak...
laughing in the wind...
as we die, they laugh...
but it is their way...
laughing is all they do...
every single day...
respect the trees...
they're here to stay...
laugh with the trees...
and remember it's in play...
the trees are our friends...
although they don't act that way...
they just sit and laugh...
as we take their lives away...