I wonder, wonder what I'll be?
I think I'd like to be a tree.
I'd stand up straight all night and day
And watch the little children play.

Birds would make my branch their home
And sing for me and me alone.
Squirrels would burrow in my chest
And make their own kind of nest.

But men might come with axes high
And chop me up, not asking "Why?"
And kids grow up, birds fly away,
Then, forever alone, I'd stay.

Trees are nice for giving shade,
But a good life it wouldn't have made.
So where on Earth does that leave me?
I wonder, wonder what I'll be?