No time for that before
They talk to me from a tall tree
Just outside my door
I sometimes talk right back to them
And they reply to me
Its not some random twittering
I know, I know the tree.
The traffic roars down Richmond,
Some think it's just a curse
Bad as it is I know darn well.
Its going to get worse.
When men no longer roam this earth,
And we'll soon see to that,
The buildings all engulfed by dirt
The skyline almost flat
The birds that sing on Richmond,
Will just keep singing on,
And never even notice,
That all of us are gone.
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