Tripod Trees Lyrics

The trees are dying.
I'd hate to be a tree in this new century.
The trees are crying.
I'd hate to have what's down to a tree done to me.

Cause they cut them down, and turn them into wood.
They rape entire forests for the corporate good.
A billion awful things are done trees.
But worst of all (Worst of all)
Trees get chained to hippies.
Trees get chained to hippies.
(Free the trees!)
I'd rather have a squirrel store his nuts in me.
Help! I'm chained up to a hippie!
(Free the trees)
Smokin' dope right near me!
(Free the trees)
Not offering me any
(Free the trees)
Playin' bongos badly.

Whoa-whoa-whoa!

Oh, if I fall in the forest, who's gonna hear me except these f___in' hippies.
You know, I'd rather be a table. I think I'd rather be woodchips, I'd rather be cigarette papers that's for sure.
Uh, yeah, uh, yeah come on. Free the trees, free the trees, free the trees.
I've made my point quite clearly.
Am I labouring it well?