Текст песни Trees - Sons of the Pioneers

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree
A tree whose hungry of this press
Against the Earth's sweet, flowing breast

A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray
A tree that May and Summer wears
A nest of Robins in her hair

Upon whose bosom, snow has lain
Who'll winter medley lives with rain
Poems are made by fools like me
But only God can make a tree