[Verse 1]
Birch tree lost its branch one day in violent winter
I said it was grieving, you said it don't feel nothing
I bet you think everything's in its rightful place
That sentiment is man's disgrace

[Verse 2]
Well the rooks in the trees, they don't half bother me
Clawing at my mind with every given opportunity
It's spring outside, a perilous sky and that terrible clattering sound
"Go ahead, you should go shoot them down"
That's what you said, "You should go shoot them down"

[Verse 3]
So hey, that's me
Shooting at a hundred-year-old rookery
Oh, look at me
The definition of futility
That's what they'll say anyway
Won't they, babe?

[Verse 4]
So I'll go back to working through the gentle hours of the evening
Where the weather and the wine and the company treat me easily
Unknowing am I of the wind that took my eye
Unknowing am I of the wind
[Outro]
Unknowing am I of the wind that took my eye
Unknowing am I of the wind