By Bad Seed
Whooeh gave you permission to enter the petrified forest?
Oh, so you both thought you could sit there, smoke a joint and perform your lurid sex acts in front of my little shoots, did you? Well I am holding you with my roots.
The tentacles are going to tighten around you and throttle you! They will pull you under the moist earth and your fermenting bodies will feed my trunk for the bleak autumn. No you cannot leave! Have you not twigged on? Your rotten corpses will decay and fester with lots of fat wriggling grubs feeding on your remains, which is mulch needed in the grounds! Furrt, furrt, oh, I see you have deposited some fertilizer on the soil! I branch you kindly for your gift! Bark, bark!