Trees of old your stories they've been told
Now you have to give us room
Your wisdom is laid down, repacked and stored
For the next ones to come
Dear Neda your spirit rests in the clouds, we'll bring it down
When we realize that we were wrong
Polish the dime, and climb, your story told is mine
Dear Neda, can you hear me up in the clouds?
Young trees and old clouds can you save us all?
The seas are rising and my drink is getting warm
No heart but heat for the farmers of Mexico
I'll keep burning cuz it's too cheap not to
I mean here it's still plenty cold
I should know cuz it's where I keep my home
No heart but heat for Mexico
I dropped the TV on my foot,
And when the pain subsided I finally- understood
What served had twisted our worlds
Looped us into a snarl and poisoned our hearts
Dear Neda, can you hear me up in the clouds?
Trees of old I'm too dumb to carry on
And when I'm gone, will you carve me into lumps?
Feed me to the next of kin, in the end trees of old you'll win
Please ask the clouds to take me in
Dear Neda your spirit rests in the clouds, we'll bring it down
When we realize that we were wrong
Polish the dime, and climb, your story told is mine
Dear Neda, can you hear me up in the clouds?