“Tree, why don’t you flower? Are you troubled by and anxious of the drought?” “I’m deciding how to flower Speculating how to sprout.
If I flower white I’ll not be noticed But if I’m red I will stand out They’ll break my branches I’ve no doubt.”
You don’t know I’m here.
All my anger fades All the sadness stays with you. Isn’t that the way. Red fades into the blue.
You exit the stage door Like you’re tripping a trap door And the smoke rings hang like a noose It’s true. Red fades before the blue.
You won’t know I’m here You can’t know I’m here.
There’s no secrets in this house Nobody’s left home The actress and the bishop Are wishing we would just pick up the phone. Catapult me forward and wish me well Constant as a wishing well And if the heat doesn’t get to me Coyotes will.
“Tree, why don’t you flower? Are you troubled by this melancholy mood?” “The black bile in your veins Is running counter to the tune.”
An atheist a generation late And an old man too soon And the Wheeling Tunnel lights Slip like sugar melting off a spoon. Something in the heart of Tom Paine burned For a revolution And the Wheeling Tunnel lights Shine like mercury melting off the moon.
You don’t know I’m here You can’t know I’m here You won’t know I’m here.