The roots

If i were a farmer i’d grow food for the birds and the bees
If i were in the business of making you pleased,
I’d take you by the hand and i’d sit you on this land
Just to show you how it feels
If i had a foot or two on you, i’d talk down, you’d listen up
We’d meet in the middle
If i were an arborist i’d plant you a forest of anti-famine trees
If i were an ethnobotanist i’d classify your race by your starting place
Just to show you how it feels
But these are the tools i’ve got
And i have not forgotten the good works our voices can do
If i were a dowser i’d find you a well just as deep as you need
If i had a plan in all of this i’d help you feel alive in the hope that you’d revive
The deep faith you once had
If i die today i’d rot away six feet beneath the trees and the birds and the bees
And the flowers you’d pick as you pray on your knees
The roots go down and the life comes up
The roots go down and meet us in the middle