I feel that I’m always sawing through the branchThat I’m sitting on, I hope it will never break freeBut I know that my cut’s not the real problem hereIt’s a cancer that’s in the body of this treeAnd all the boughs will break and all the leaves will crumbleIf they’re not allowed to growThey’ll surely fall to be swept awayAnd the bloom will feel the rakeWhen the blossom takes it’s tumbleIf they’re not allowed to grow they’ll surely fallA flower must have sunlight like a song must be heardThe ego needs an audience for the id to be stirredBut if we sell for the sake of salesAnd those that want to buyAre we playing for ourselves or just acting out a lie?Life is far too simple for our lives to be complexWe take things like God, love, and lifeAnd pile them in our human messWe suffocate the bloom with man-made walls and fencesWe suffocate the bloom with false righteousness