Stood static for so long
That gra** grew up legs
Now we're muddled up in landscape
The apple that got dropped
Is a tree in its teens
Nervous for the first crop
If I counted up correctly
I'm already far behind
In the race I was born to
It doesn't look so great at all
I've counted up my woodrings
And now I'm hunted by woodrings
I took the spelk from your eye
And soon enough I'll get to work
On the plank left in mine
I took an axe to my arm
To find out if it showed me
My real age
If I counted up correctly
I'm already far behind
In the race I was born to
It doesn't look so great at all
I've counted up my woodrings
And now I'm hunted by woodrings
I took the spelk from your eye
I took the axe from my arm
I took the spelk from your eye
I took the axe from my arm
I took the axe out of my arm