there go the tree surgeons 
it's time for carnival 
whether to be the one who sings 
with rusty blades this fall 
just take a look at each man's hands 
the hands that cut us down 
they're the same hands that pull you close 
the hands that lift your gown 

hey now, hey-ee-yeah 
hey now, hey-ee-yeah 

just look at me 
my hands are open wide 
can't get them clean 
can't let the seconds slide 
our bed is free 
my arms are open wide 
just look at me 
my arms are open wide 

there may come a day 
when stilts are all we've got 
when the trees won't fall for us 
when we leave the mills to rot 
we'll raise the big top, baby 
raise and gather 'round 
we'll trade our chainsaws in 
and build a better town 

hey now, hey-ee-yeah 
hey now, hey-ee-yeah