“Tree, why don’t you flower?
Are you troubled by and anxious of the drought?”
“I’m deciding how to flower
Speculating how to sprout.
If I flower white I’ll not be noticed
But if I’m red I will stand out
They’ll break my branches
I’ve no doubt.”
You don’t know I’m here.
All my anger fades
All the sadness stays with you.
Isn’t that the way.
Red fades into the blue.
You exit the stage door
Like you’re tripping a trap door
And the smoke rings hang like a noose
It’s true.
Red fades before the blue.
You won’t know I’m here
You can’t know I’m here.
There’s no secrets in this house
Nobody’s left home
The actress and the bishop
Are wishing we would just pick up the phone.
Catapult me forward and wish me well
Constant as a wishing well
And if the heat doesn’t get to me
Coyotes will.
“Tree, why don’t you flower?
Are you troubled by this melancholy mood?”
“The black bile in your veins
Is running counter to the tune.”
An atheist a generation late
And an old man too soon
And the Wheeling Tunnel lights
Slip like sugar melting off a spoon.
Something in the heart of Tom Paine burned
For a revolution
And the Wheeling Tunnel lights
Shine like mercury melting off the moon.
You don’t know I’m here
You can’t know I’m here
You won’t know I’m here.