Hawksley Workman - All The Trees Are Hers lyrics

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 bu*ter 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