Young tree growing upward, growing upward toward the sky,
I wish I could have changed your mind, the day the winds blew by
Young tree growing upward, growing upward toward the sky,
I wish I could have changed your mind, but you would not let me try.
From East a gale howled that hurled your leaves into the mist
From South a fire raged that burned away both mill and grist
From West there rushed a flooded stream that drowned all in its path
and from North there yawned a chasm deep that swallowed joy and wrath
Young tree, you were supple, you could bend when winds were high
Young tree, you were slender and the flames would pass you by
Young tree, you were thirsty and your roots withstood the stream
as they traveled down the chasm to the underworld of dream.
Why, then, did you rend your limbs asunder in the storm
and leave them where the fire would engulf your broken form?
Why, then, did you let the river take your ash away
To the chasm where you're ever lost to those who had to stay?
Young tree growing upward, growing upward toward the sky,
I wish I could have changed your mind, the day the winds blew by
Young tree growing upward, growing upward toward the sky,
I wish I could have changed your mind, but you would not let me try.
I wish I could have changed your mind, but you would not let me try.
I wish I could have changed your mind, but you would not let me try.

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