The Alder Trees - Alela Diane
I can hear the elders whispering in words
So sweet and low
The alder trees were
Listening to songs been sung before
My friend and
I collecting skeletons of leaves
Making tiny piles oh
And sifting through the weeds
Wind blows the tiny green
Tiny green
Wind blows the tiny green
Helicopter seeds
Wind blows the tiny green
Tiny green
Wind blows the tiny green
Helicopter seeds
Oh wandering in days unfolding
With hats fashioned of mud and snake skin
Oh wandering in days unfolding
With hats fashioned of mud and snake skin
Of mud and snake skin
As I think about the ladies
Who weren't allowed to sing
Sewing all their pretty rows of
Thread instead of singing
And what about the black
Braided sisters of Mariee
We sat upon their grinding rock
As children used to be
Beneath the knotted pine
Knotted pine
Beneath the knotted pine
At the garden's edge
Beneath the knotted pine
Knotted pine
Beneath the knotted pine
At the garden's edge
Oh laughing little girls clapping
Ghosts weaving our hair to baskets
Oh laughing little girls clapping
And ghosts weaving our hair to baskets
Our hair to baskets
I can hear the elders whispering
In words so sweet and low
The alder trees were
Listening to songs been sung before
My friend and
I collecting skeletons of leaves
Making tiny piles oh
And sifting through the weeds
Making tiny piles oh
And sifting through the weeds
