My roots are deeper than the bones the others my colors they change with the sun my branches we’re higher than anything on the hillside on the day that I watched them all come
Some wear the color of the sky in the winter some we’re as blue as the night they came like a storm with the light of the morn and they fell thru the whole day and night
Colors flew high and they danced in the sky as I watched them come over the hill then to my wonder sticks that made thunder such a great number lay still
When the light came again there was death on the wind as the buzzards made way for the worms and the little white trees that don’t bend in the breeze for the ones that will never return
The colors flew high and they danced in the sky as I watched them come over the hill then to my wonder sticks that made thunder such a great number lay still
Those that have fallen they come when I call them and answer the best that they can but all they can see is what they used to be and that’s all that they understand
The colors flew high and they danced in the sky as I watched them come over the hill then to my wonder sticks that made thunder such a great number lay still
Colors flew high and they danced in the sky as I watched them come over the hill then to my wonder sticks that made thunder such a great number lay still