Mountains don't talk,
only do they hear.
Listen to falling trees making a sound,
this is like my last moment,
Before my dead wood is found.

What's the amount of life,
adding to the idea only subtracts the cause.
Divided by the voices blowing in my head,
much like wind blowing across you O'tree.
Not so cheap to be alive,
for nothing in life comes for free.

Our cruel world shares no love for any few,
the very few of you are helpless.
Why do we all suffer,
we are so many.
Doing so much in this cruel world,
living in the stories of our upbringing,
Stories we never told.

O'tree,
you and I are much like.
In a world comparing us both,
we're so much a like, living in a world comparing wealth by it's size.

Let's stand,
tell our stories right here on this stand.
They may never understand,
how our offspring are destined to grow great.
Seedlings of little wealth,
born to reach the skies, a touch away from the blue.

We grow in this world,
moving so fast,
nothing in the moment seems to last.
How do we make it to any future
when we fail to remember our past.
Wealth sees fortune,
but fortune won't forever last.
What drys out is only nature,
all that falls, drys away like leaves on the grass.