i’ve worn those good, good doubled shoes all my life. i don’t fight, just a tall tree, unswaying. i like the way life catches in the light. but my eyes are smoky blue like the night.
sometimes when you’re climbing. you just slip a tremor or a little and if they blink, they won’t see. and everyone says says promises that they wouldn’t be here without their mistakes. not a chance, my friend. but you can’t bend. you can’t bend.
i’m a tall tree, unswaying.
while they all lilt in the wind.
my bark is stone-hard, diamond stuff. you won’t leave a mark.
i’m filled with velvet cake of scarlet and softer still, cut into pieces for eating.
i’m a tree long unswaying.
i heard a note on the wind tonight and followed it leaning.
what’s the difference between bending and breathing?
i’m never without my good, good doubled shoes.