The roof was under repair at the institute Leaving the brightest minds unprotected The committee was getting a little nervous So they sent chainsaw killers out Into the forest to make a killing But the marked off victim said “Hey what’s this got to do with me Are you trying to make a coffin out of my skin Because I’ve got someone living up here So they started craning their necks to look up there But metal cans rained down and smashed their faces, Their noses so damaged they would never again Get a photographer shoot Which left the magazine company without a lot of money
The advertisers are being a little aggressive In their push to get the tree knocked down So here comes the national guard replaced By the robotic slaves of the next great tech magnate’s son The tree files an official request but it’s rejected By the pencil pushers who are salivating at its corpse While the town appointed pastor is drawing up the crosses That’ll be made out of it And be forcibly be placed in people’s yards By the supreme court who is in need Of some nice wooden chairs That need to be polished every day Or so in order for their robes not to get too dirty
Otherwise people wouldn’t take them all seriously Especially when they’re nervous Which happens quite a large percentage of the time But that’s only a problem When they’re hearing the important cases Like when the lumberjacks were hacking at the tree And it hurled some slur at them About being some sort of uneducated country hicks And they responded that they’d sue the tree For everything it has The leaves are being repossessed by The men with plastic bags Who gather them up and Light them on fire As if that’s the best they can do To keep the residents up all hours of the night
The most bitter of them carved their lover’s name Into the tree who saw it and Immediately dumped him in the ravine With the pile of bricks promising themselves To go clean up the place later But it turned into a shooting range And one of the more disturbed winged The tree a couple of times They can’t be blamed too much for it though Since they’d had a rough time at home Ever since their seed collection let loose in the valley And the locusts ate up their beets and radish
The manicure salesman told the tree It would make it look a little better And make all the necessary repairs But when they were done the tree was missing A few of its items and felt a little bare When the cold breeze blew through In the dead of winter And the snow pummeled its surface It begged for a jacket and Grew a rash that the bugs That’d just immigrated from Japan In a business man’s bag took to moving in And taking advantage of the open sores As burrows because everyone needs A roof over their heads
Since the sun has punched and kicked Its way through the atmosphere That got burned up by private jets Shooting like missiles into the sky Polluting even space with their discarded junk That rotates above us
