Climbing trees disguised in may
The grass it screamed beneath us
But we did not hear what it had to say
The words got stuck and lost their way
in between the snowflake flowers
I was king and you were slave
The tree our castle and the branches towers
As the leaves turned green I turned brave
I wanted to climb higher

Like Chekhov's gun
the shadow had too show itself
It stole away our golden sun
towards the final act
The tree grew old waiting
We stopped our steps and climbed no more
For the first time ever, hating

We fell towards the heavy ground
out from the wooden castle

The grass it seized to sound.