Our language of love 
The Battle of Trees 
We fought side by side 
No one had more 

Sharper consonants than you, love 
And my vowels, well, were [bad word] 
 [bad word] the Birch 
Rowan followed by the Ash 
Then through the Alder she forms 
And merges with Willow 

The Hawthorne blossoms 
As the Oak guards the door 
She is the hinge on which the year swings 
He courts the lightning flash and her 

Summoning the spirits 
Through incantations 
You said the Thunder God seems to have 
And our enemies are the Reed 
But we knew the Furies held the Holly sacred 

We were insulated 
In a circle of words we'd drawn 
With wisdom sent from nine Hazels 
Rowan fire and a Willow rod 

At [bad word] the vine 
That generates bramble wine 
The constant change of the night sun 
song in the blood of the white bull 

Our language of love 
The Battle of Trees 
We fought side by side 
No one had more 

Sharper consonants than you, love 
And my vowels, well, were [bad word] 

From Ivy leaves is an ale that can unveil 
The hidden meanings and serpents 
Only revealed through visions 
Yes vowels could insert 
"A" was for the Silver Fir 

The Firs of course 
Then came next 
With Heather at her most 
Passionate 

The White Poplar's gift to the souls of the dead 
promise that it was not the end 
But for the vine the "U", it's coffer 

Vowels and consonants 
The power of trees 
The power they hold 
The power of prose 

So when the church 
Began to twist the old myths 
They built their own Tower of Babel 
From Ulster to Munster 

The Reed gave way then 
To the Elder 
The Earth turns her will 
So that night follows day 

From dawn to dawn 
Fom Winter to Winter 
At day the Ash had power over the Alder 

Our language of love 
The Battle of Trees 
We fought side by side 
Then he said to me: 
"I've dodged bullets and even poisoned arrows 
Only to be foiled by the blade of a vowel"