Marcus Foster - Old birch tree lyrics

I will tell all the crooked worms in my grave To save the eyes, save the eyes And I will cover all the winding paths on which you pave Fallen skies, fallen skies And if I tie up my troubles to the old birch tree And if I don't chop it down, don't chop it down And I will throw all the stones in the shore at the restless sea Till it's dry, till it's dry And I will let all the hundred faces in the street Pa** me by, pa** my by And if you wanna sell away your sorrows Then save some for me I will keep them from growing in the ground And if I tie up my troubles to the old birch tree And if I don't chop it down, don't chop it down And if you wanna sell away your sorrows Then save some for me I will keep them from growing in the ground And if I tie up my troubles to the old birch tree And if I don't chop it down, don't chop it down And if I tie up my troubles to the old birch tree And if I don't chop it down, don't chop it down