Pulp | Lyrics | The Trees

I took an air-rifle, shot a magpie to the ground
And it died without a sound
Your skin so pale against the fallen autumn leaves
No one saw us but the trees

Yeah, the trees, those useless trees
Produce the air that I am breathing
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees
They never said that you were leaving

I carved your name with a heart just up above
Now swollen, distorted, unrecognizable like our love
The smell of leaf mold and the sweetness of decay
Are the incense at the funeral procession here, today

In the trees, those useless trees
Produce the air that I am breathing
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees
They never said that you were leaving

You try to shape the world
To what you want the world to be.
Carving your name a thousand times
Won't bring you back to me

Oh, no, I might as well, I might as well
Go and tell it to the trees

Yeah, the trees, those useless trees
Produce the air that I am breathing
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees
They never said that you were leaving

Go and tell it to the trees, yeah
Go and tell it to the trees, yeah
Go and tell it to the trees, yeah
Go and tell it to the trees, yeah
Go and tell it to the trees, yeah