Rot To Fill
lyrics by Stubs

I was in the car, 
reading a book

A book on some myths, 
there was one about trees

Or rather the lack of them, 
no evergreen or deciduous

How could this be, 
where are the trees?

Imagine what it's like, 
without conifer on the branch

[chorus]
Billy scratched, 
Conner made thatch

Who slept better, 
Cotten or Swill?

Dreams are to be had, 
not written on a sketch pad

Pillows to be made, 
with rot to fill
[end chorus]

Billy McSwill ate some grass, 
Conner O'Cotten sat on his chair

They looked out, at the landscape
it's treeless mass was a mistake

The clouds seemed to move, achronically, 
with the sun, virtual synchronicity

There weren't even birds in the sky,
for the lack of trees forbid their kind.

Their job dealt with fluff, 
to fill pillows with other stuff

[chorus]

The haptic response was the same,
but side effects quite different

Billy had an extra ear,
for rot made it hard to hear

Conner couldn't spell his name,
his neck was crooked, hanging in shame

I think to myself, what would you do?
comprehensively glad this isn't true

So I say, we'ere lucky to have trees,
and fill our pillows with angry bees

[chorus]