[Verse 1] The axe in my hand Cuts only at branches Cuts not at the bark Its toughness is far Too much for this blade All rusted and lame As the ice trickles down And covers this town In the lumberyard thaw [Verse 2] This ice in my hands In my head, it demands Melts away when we all Fly south for the fall When we cover the streets In dust from the trees As our bodies flow out Down rivers, past towns Spilling out like a sound Laying beds in the ground Of the lumberyard [Instrumental Break] [Bridge] Ba-ba, ba-ba Ba-ba, ba-ba Ba-ba, ba-ba Ba-ba, ba-ba Ba-ba, ba-ba Ba-ba, ba-ba [Outro] This axe in my hand Cuts only at branches Cuts not at the bark Its toughness is far too much