I can hear the elders whispering in words so sweet and low
The alder trees were listening to songs been sung before
My friend and I collecting skeletons of leaves
Making tiny piles oh, and sifting through the weeds

Wind blows the tiny green, tiny green
Wind blows the tiny green helicopter seeds
Wind blows the tiny green, tiny green
Wind blows the tiny green helicopter seeds

Oh wandering in days unfolding
With ? fashioned of mud and snakeskin
Oh wandering in days unfolding
With ? fashioned of mud and snakeskin, of mud and snake-skin

As I think about the ladies who weren't allowed to sing
Sewing all their pretty rows of thread instead of seed
And what about the black braided sisters of Marie
We sat upon their grinding rock as children used to be

Beneath the knotted pine, knotted pine
Beneath the knotted pine at the garden's edge
Beneath the knotted pine, knotted pine
Beneath the knotted pine at the garden's edge

Oh laughing little girls clapping
And ghosts weaving our hair to baskets
Oh laughing little girls clapping
And ghosts weaving our hair to baskets, our hair to baskets

I can hear the elders whispering in words so sweet and low
The alder trees were listening to songs been sung before
My friend and I collecting skeletons of leaves
Making tiny piles oh, and sifting through the weeds
Making tiny piles oh, and sifting through the weeds



Lyrics submitted by holbytla, edited by smallwonderrobot

The Alder Trees song meanings
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