Living in a damp and empty hole
we hold precious what is ours
even if it’s forks of twig
and dried out dirt in our mouths

And if that dirt is just for us
and our neighbours’ trees have none
then maybe we shall feel some pride
in our poorly selves for once

And can you really blame us then
if our neighbours call to us
“you’ll never guess what we just got,
some dirt to fill us up!”

We feel more poor than ever before
and so creep up their tree
to find that little bowl of dirt
and throw it in the sea