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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Green Trees Don’t Make It Everyday I look out and see The ugly green trees Standing guard in front of my house. And I think to myself Who owns the trees? And what do they think of us? Are we their friends? Are we their enemies? What do the trees think of us? Do they silently watch us, Spies to the celestial emperor? I have pondered this question Many a morning, Who is the owner of these trees? And why do they silently watch us? I wonder if the trees don't hate us And why they don't protest. Every day as we drive back and forth Emitting poison gases from our mechanical asses Right into their unprotected faces. And every night we eat our dinner And then give the trees Our polluted leftovers And laugh as they silently die From our acidic fallout Constantly floating down on their skin. Yes, I wonder about the trees And the birds and the bees And everyone else. What are they thinking? Are they plotting revenge? Or are they merely there Silently, watching, plotting, Designing fiendish plots of revenge Dreams of vast nuclear destruction. Cosmic diseases wiping out everyone in the ass Oh Yes, I wonder and dream and ponder What is the meaning of those silent green trees? Standing on the corner Quietly condemning us With their quiet tears, and falling leaves. In the winter they stand Naked and alone Covered with ice-cold snow As we drive by nice and warm. And we don't care As they stand out in the cold Shivering, plotting warm plans of cosmic revenge. Is it too late for us To become friends with the trees? Or will the day come When the trees will wake up And gather together All the other slaves of humanity. I have a vision One morning I will open the door And see an army of wild things Coming to arrest me For crimes against nature. And I will plead, I did not know And they will laugh and turn me all of my kind Into silent tombs, And we will stand out in the cold Like the green trees Plotting dreams of revenge For ever and ever. Until our day finally comes And we can go out and kill all the wild things Perhaps we already have.
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