They have no leaves
nor nests for in the birds to rest
because the winter breeze
is cold at best
they are old and dead
the breath of life exhaled
and as i lay down to bed
i think myself old and frail
not so different from these dark old trees
a forest of a time come and gone
just like these old eyes can no longer see
the branches no longer sing their song
a sweet melody
to sooth the soul of man
in perfect harmony
i will lend a helping hand
with my saw and nails
my hands and my Axe
though frail
i swing hard and fast
to topple these great memories
to bring them to the ground
these great old trees
are as tall as they are round
when its done
and these gentle giants have crashed
i know that time has won
i am finished at last
but one more thing before i go
and build this tree into my grave
i want you to remember and know
the good times in the summer shade
