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
and 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, unrecognisable; like our love

The smell of leaf mould 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 just go and tell it to the trees

Oh 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