When the forest burns When the apples spit When the garden's black Still i tend to it. When the mother lies When the father dies When the child cries Still nothing changes. No hope to salvage I strolled along Silently starving By my own choice. I feel new bark soon I feel renewed now I taste sweet fruit, that nourishes me. But to stay in this tree But to stay in its shade But to live off its treasures I must leave my charcoal haven.