Speaking of Ludder...

Oh tree, can you apply makeup to my cravings. Eve of sex, Adam rests in the nude. Favored, then The Fall. Autumn's child. 

Oh tree, are you dabbing or is it the afro waving in the wind? Can you talk to me, my final veil?

I sweat to stand, rehearse to speak, is anything natural save my own cravings? I'd like to know, but who will tell me? 

Is it you tree, my final vein? It is you and upon you shall I soon hang. My dreams have been…one-eyed of late.