Come sit with me under a tree.
Would you ruminate on my pouring heart?
Come paint pictures with me under the canopy.
Would you find a place for love to start?

If I promise to learn from my mistakes,
Would you not judge me too harshly?
As I tell you my yarn by the glittering lakes,
And watch the rolling hills grow marshy.

Drink up with me as I spill all my sin,
And confide in you like I have no other.
I fear you would throw me away into the bin,
And will forget about me, loving another.