AroarA - #14 lyrics

Pilgrims call it "the tree of life" Bough where the dark eyes hang In the pines with the golden needles Divided, spreading their wings They fly up (up) from the tree As they are taking down the tent Like there's no more poetry Women chanting, blind man sings See the ghost of it Hear the old owl sing I was born to be your poet I am the woman, your poet All that I am And I know just one thing No one is the poet. I am I was born to be your poet I am the woman, your poet All that I am And I know just one thing No one is the poet. I am Kissing goodbye in hospital This world can't stand long Never got what we should have had You can't have what they had, their loss If you'll make it or not to the heavens And bring back your soul in this song I was born to be your poet I am the woman, your poet All that I am And I know just one thing No one is the poet. I am I was born to be your poet I am the woman, your poet All that I am And I know just one thing No one is the poet. I am You never will want for money Because you will never want it I forsake everything but the tree