Mark Berube and the Patriotic Few — Last Call lyrics

Lyrics

Among the trees on the boulevard
Its leaves waved by the buses and bikes
One tree has a carving that’s carved by a knife
One night in June
I read the etching on a hot summer night
The letters spelt out a phrase
The bark worked as a frame
I heard a story about a phone call
A young girl made from Tiananmen Square
She left a message for her mother
A beep and then I love you
Chicken scratched into the tree’s skin
I love you is what was written
My knife blade brake
When I finished the u