I hope none of you think I’m crying
As the sweat rolls down my face.
I hope none of you think I’m losing
As I’m lapping the guy in last place.
I hope one of you thanks me this winter
For what some of you would hang me from now.
Cause today the sun kissed a layer of skin from your
it’s cause last night I chopped the old shade treedown.
I guess none of you thought of its roots
As the living dead trapped underground.
Or of the blizzard above or the hero I’d be
Planting bonfires all around town.
So as the frost licks the layer of skin off the nose
Of your neighbour, remember who chopped the old shade treedown.