Bristle comb pine

As old as the hills
Does that give you the chills
For 5000 years I have stood
On these mountains a looking
Down on your humanity
Which truthfully wasn’t good
Below me the desert snd now streets of neon
Crime and such waste
All about
11,000feet up on the White Mountains
Quietly i manage to shout

I live with adversity
Cold dull conditions
And each ring within me
Records all of time
Schulmans core samples
Could see
5000 years i have watched over you
Slowly I grew and still I
Have only reached 26 feet
A good height
Facing the light from the sky