Question all the trees

Why won't you question all
the trees, darling,
Don't say they're hidden
by the leaves.

Branches can't bind the
blasphemy
that they say you planted
with that seed.

Strange to know those
swaying soldiers
saunter so strongly in
the wind.

They say before Cartier
found Gaspe,
he fought a raging
storm at sea.

You always think you can run, but
some things are rooted.
Run, go on, faster than
the wind.

Reckless redemption
rages while
righteousness
riles me.

Maybe you know that, or
maybe you can't see
that when in fall the leaves fall,
they blow and circle me.

Teasing treason,
trusting temptation,
tragic traces,
temperatures raising.

Keeper of old stories

Hey, we're through the alley,
running farther away, hey,
heading to the forest;
that's where the soul lives.

Say, isn't that the cantadora's story?
She's keeper of old stories...

Well, we're bounding through the arts,
bonding broken stars and bleeding hearts.