When it's the tree of life, what is right? What is right?

Do my branches hang high only to break?

Do my leaves fall only to make me shake?

The stems I reach break little by little.

The night goes cold and I feel it all, I feel it all.

This world full of broken branches, this world I must turn to Earth, Wind and Fire.

I feel the sap aging through me, right through me...

But I fall and stand up and then pick up the facts:

Life is great, life is good and with the tree of life I'm more than wood.