• I can hear the cry of the sacred trees,
    The giver of life as the axe plays part in a grusome execution
    God I pray,
    God I pray,
    I pray for the lust and greed that weilds the axe,
    For the trees are of spirit, forgiving, but never forgetting.
    God I pray,
    God I pray.
    I pray for the spirit of the trees as the chainsaw trys to hide the crys.
    Their lives cut short in a never-ending attmept to furnish our fasions.
    God I pray,
    God I pray.
    I pray that the spirit of the tree lives on to haunt and perish those lavish homes and places, to no regard to spirit be given,
    God I pray,
    God I pray.
    Your Garden of Eden disapearing, as we, your children look away.
    Let me be there at Judgement Day, and cry for the pain of the spirit of the tree.
    And let me look at you, for here, I am unable to look away.