After long there is lasting peace,

no curses just me flat in melancholy.

There was no axe no hammer no force

it was all completely voluntary.

I was a tall primaeval palm tree,

on the lovely old Solomon Islands.

I had shade but they needed corn,

so they wanted me neatly gone.

They circled me like hungry sharks,

yelling at me from afternoon to dawn.

I was an abjectly cursed palm tree,

on the lovely old Solomon Islands.

Every cruel word known to their specie

wretched truth or fabricated lie.

Telling me I don't deserve a place,

before my sap dries, I have to die.

I am a dead rootless palm tree,

on the lovely old Solomon islands.