A haunting eco-folk ballad told by Earth’s last standing tree as it watches its forest fall. With the sorrow of a whispered ghost story and the urgency of a dying wish, sparse guitar and a lone trembling voice unfold the tale. Bowed bass murmurs beneath verses, while tremolo strings swell into the chorus, deepening the anguish. By the final whisper, listeners are left chilled by the weight of what’s already gone.

[Verse 1]
First they took the willow’s sighs,
Then the redwoods, stripped and skinned.
Now the crows don’t call at morning—
Just the grind of steel on wind.

[Chorus]
Is there anyone who’ll listen?
Or am I the last who knows?
I can taste the diesel drifting…
Count my rings as the last one goes.

[Break]

[Verse 2]
They called it “better sunlight,”
Laid the concrete like a shroud.
Men in suits point at my branches,
Say, “It’s prettier as a cloud.”

[Bridge]
Do you hear my roots snap, cracking?
Does the earth still feel it too?
Or am I just a ghost already—
Just a shadow they’ll walk through?

[Final Chorus]
Now I know there’s no one coming…
No more stories left to grow.
Just the hush of falling timber—
Then the world they’ll never know.

[End]


Final Tree’s Lament

Today is a gift, that is why we call it present.

New tracks tagged #Eco-folk