Wooden Woodpecker Conversion - Mar De Grises

Pecking the rays of the sun

Watching the falling of a tree

Stop this nonsense at once!

And swallow the flow of the sea

But wooden is the tool of fate

Drawing the dawn of my tears

Let me peck a hole in wood

And plunge myself into bliss

No longer a tree I’ll call

This wooden-hearted sun in me As a tree is what I’m now

Living the rotting of my seed