Capítulo dos: un vídeo que venga a subrayar lo dicho en el capítulo anterior , entre otras cosas.
Y, a la vez, que la música y la letra de la canción, de otro mundo, compensen un poco por tener que soportar la cruel estupidez de los políticos de este.
Los que secan la tierra mientras, a la vez, abonan... nuestra debilidad mental. Y recogen sus frutos.

***

Levantémonos, cojamos el aire que aún nos queda.
Y cantemos:


I took an air-rifle, shot a magpie to the ground
and it died without a sound.
Your skin so pale against the fallen Autumn leaves
and no-one saw us but the trees.

Yeah, the trees,
those useless trees
produce the air
that I am breathing.
Yeah, the trees,
those useless trees;
they never said
that you were leaving.

I carved your name with a heart
just up above
- now swollen, distorted, unrecognisable; like our love.
The smell of leaf mould
and the sweetness of decay
are the incense at the funeral procession here, today.

Yeah, the trees,
those useless trees
produce the air
that I am breathing.
Yeah, the trees,
those useless trees;
they never said that you were leaving.

You try to shape the world
to what you want the world to be.
Carving your name a thousand times
won't bring you back to me.

Oh no, no
I might as well go and tell it to the trees.
Go and tell it to the trees, yeah...