Dead Trees in the Dirty Ground

I wrote these lyrics while planting trees up in Northern Ontario. Basically it's a song for people who like tree planting, and who also like The White Stripes. For the eight people out there that applies to, enjoy:

...

Dead trees in the dirty ground when the checker's not around
Duff shots in between the rocks till I hear his truck make a sound
Till I hear his truck make a sound
Three boxes in the back of my land in the middle of a deep dark hole
Stashin' fattens up the I.P.L. when you're a low-baller who plants slow
When you're a low-baller who plants slow

If you can see a greener bawl you can watch me claim call after call
Take a quick walk through my piece and it's clear I don't care at all
Yeah it's clear I don't care at all
Soft bog and residuals I wanna give you some of my trees
Cause every pod that I hide in you is a little less work for me
Is a little less work for me

I was cashin' in till the plots came down
They sent my ass home- cause nobody wants stashers around
Wants stashers around

Well any man with his bags and shovel knows planting's what he loves the most
But I'm a lazy s.o.b. and it's time to give up the ghost
Yeah it's time to give up the ghost.