If you don't change your direction
You'll end up where you're heading to
Growing pines are toppling
Carved into a coffin
You've reached out your branches
But still you're where your stand is
Growing pines are toppling
Carved into a coffin
It's time you got around
Before somebody comes and cuts you down
Too young for counting rings
Your stand is understood
But still you might end up as firewood
I hear the chainsaws now