Holy trees

You’ve got an invitation
But you don’t have the guts
You have been so kind, so patient
Now you’re going slightly nuts
With all your plastic desires
With all your trivial dreams
You want nothing but to fire
All of them full of beans
When the world becomes a little bit concrete
And all those clowns displease
You will find me out on Main-street
Dancing with the holy trees
Weary of not doing
The things you want to do Tired of pursuing
Things you never wanted to Of all your plastic desires
Of all your trivial dreams
You want nothing but to fire
All of them full of beans