THE WIND IN TOWN TREES

THE WIND IN TOWN TREES

THE WIND IN TOWN TREES

Whatis it says the breezeIn London streets to-dayUnto the troubled treesWhose shadows strew the way,Whose leaves are all a-flutter?“You are wild!” the rascal cries.The green tree beats its wingsAnd fills the air with sighs.“Wild! Wild!” the rascal sings.“But your feet are in the gutter!”Men pass beneath the treesWalking the pavement grey,They hear the whisperings teaseAnd at the word he uttersTheir hearts are green and gay.Then like the gay, green trees,They beat proud wings to fly,But, like the fluttering trees,Their footprints mark the guttersUntil the beggars die.

Whatis it says the breezeIn London streets to-dayUnto the troubled treesWhose shadows strew the way,Whose leaves are all a-flutter?“You are wild!” the rascal cries.The green tree beats its wingsAnd fills the air with sighs.“Wild! Wild!” the rascal sings.“But your feet are in the gutter!”Men pass beneath the treesWalking the pavement grey,They hear the whisperings teaseAnd at the word he uttersTheir hearts are green and gay.Then like the gay, green trees,They beat proud wings to fly,But, like the fluttering trees,Their footprints mark the guttersUntil the beggars die.

Whatis it says the breezeIn London streets to-dayUnto the troubled treesWhose shadows strew the way,Whose leaves are all a-flutter?

Whatis it says the breeze

In London streets to-day

Unto the troubled trees

Whose shadows strew the way,

Whose leaves are all a-flutter?

“You are wild!” the rascal cries.The green tree beats its wingsAnd fills the air with sighs.“Wild! Wild!” the rascal sings.“But your feet are in the gutter!”

“You are wild!” the rascal cries.

The green tree beats its wings

And fills the air with sighs.

“Wild! Wild!” the rascal sings.

“But your feet are in the gutter!”

Men pass beneath the treesWalking the pavement grey,They hear the whisperings teaseAnd at the word he uttersTheir hearts are green and gay.

Men pass beneath the trees

Walking the pavement grey,

They hear the whisperings tease

And at the word he utters

Their hearts are green and gay.

Then like the gay, green trees,They beat proud wings to fly,But, like the fluttering trees,Their footprints mark the guttersUntil the beggars die.

Then like the gay, green trees,

They beat proud wings to fly,

But, like the fluttering trees,

Their footprints mark the gutters

Until the beggars die.

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