Theory: variation on a theme

Interpretation: a green song, for the fans of Fractured Fairy Tales, because

it makes the little druidical people happy.

Acorns don’t fall too far away from where they came

But without a healthy wind who can you really blame?

You could stay home to be a piece of furniture

Better yet a hardwood floor where we could groove some more

Still as a fence where Humpty-dumpty takes a nap

Standing brittle I’m convinced you’ll take no time to snap

Wooden yew bend in a storm brewin’ on you

Wooden yew sway and ride on the breeze

Those mighty oaks say gale force is comin’

I saw them through, such mighty trees

Now those oaks must bough

Rooting into enormous clumps of tons of soil

Bracing hard against the gust will bring your sap to boil

Mixing real well with wallflowers in the scene

Deck material indeed, or print a magazine

Storms brewed strong with pulling twists and pushing heaves

And they’re flat on their trunks in a pile of leaves

(chorus)

Aren’t you supposed to be newspaper in the morning?

Aren’t you a mess of scattered debris?

Tune to the weather for the earliest warning

But into the vacuum flew the t. v.

Where did it go? That was my favorite show!

Timber!

When the big old man is snoring cause his famous guests are boring, hold yer hats as water’s pouring from dark clouds it springs and falls

We will play a game of nine pins, usually the same old pine wins, I’m across the foul line when I give up ten more gutterballs

When the cradle catapults, resistance leads to no more results, acorns that become adults cannot enjoy the summer squalls

Instead of standing there and huffing, come commence with us in puffing, or you’re soon to see your stuffing flung beyond the garden walls

Aren’t you supposed to be newspaper in the morning?

Aren’t you a mess of scattered debris?

You didn’t know weather or not there was warning

Willow them a lesson in co-wrecked carpentry

Now those oaks don’t bark, some boreds in the ark

A tree mend us waist of wattle with haste

Sew yore beet to shreds rolled right along into your beds

Soap lay a round yule hug the ground we’ll play the next in cleats