All the trees are hers
And the bees and the furs
Not exactly hymns but hers.
All the skies are fine
And the beasts with spurs
Not exactly wings, flutters
And the nights of stars
And the cold shudders
Precise and orderly clutters
After quite some time
We'll be who we were
I will certainly trust her
When the time comes to die X2
Will we steal the truth in it?
When the time comes to die
Oh, the dust and close your eyes
Will we believe the truth in it?
All the trees are hers
Tall and green and worst
To pollinate the cup butter
Even apple trees
With reluctant worms
Can satisfy her needs for sure...
And the rhubarb burst
Through the dark rich earth
Makes the sweetest intermittent purr.
What is fallow now
Will come to deserve
Poetry's most lovely words
All The Trees Are Hers Lyrics performed by Hawksley Workman are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that All The Trees Are Hers Lyrics performed by Hawksley Workman is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD