The sound of a tree, hitting the ground.
In the middle of nowhere, will it make a sound? And that's where we'll be for Earth will be gone. No people to walk, no birds to sing songs.
Nothing to give and nothing to take.
All because our, unfixable mistake.
Tell me, will the tree call out?
When no one can here, will the tree shout?
Axes can kill, and fire can burn.
Yet when will we, as people, learn?
That we are destroying, the place we call home. Soon or later, we will be alone.
The rocks will be gone, the foxes and bears.
So why won't we listen? Do we not care?
We say that we'll change, yet the very next day,
we will have destroyed, something precious in our way.
Listen hard, what can you hear?
The chattering of people, both far and both near? What about the sounds, that can't be heard? Why can't you hear, the chirping of a bird?
We won't be around, we can't just believe,
that things might change, if we can't even breathe. For the sound of a tree, hitting the ground,
In the middle of nowhere, it won't make a sound.