For the blue air I contort to the side I writhe to the sky I grasp with my branches I gasp with my leaves In a straight up forest I'm crooked and mean This twisted old tree I've put roots down here Where no one's like me

For the blue air I contort to the side I writhe to the sky I grasp with my branches I gasp with my leaves In a straight up forest I'm crooked and mean This twisted old tree I've put roots down here Where no one's like me