[Verse 1] Birch tree lost its branch one day in violent winter I said it was grieving, you said it don't feel nothing I bet you think everything's in its rightful place That sentiment is man's disgrace [Verse 2] Well the rooks in the trees, they don't half bother me Clawing at my mind with every given opportunity It's spring outside, a perilous sky and that terrible clattering sound "Go ahead, you should go shoot them down" That's what you said, "You should go shoot them down" [Verse 3] So hey, that's me Shooting at a hundred-year-old rookery Oh, look at me The definition of futility That's what they'll say anyway Won't they, babe? [Verse 4] So I'll go back to working through the gentle hours of the evening Where the weather and the wine and the company treat me easily Unknowing am I of the wind that took my eye Unknowing am I of the wind [Outro] Unknowing am I of the wind that took my eye Unknowing am I of the wind