Racing off the beaten path
Praising love through natures wrath
Pluck the last grape from the vine
Crossed legs trace lips
With a mountains forest, pine.

And pine I did for life last Spring
Pining nature be you it bring
The foliage grows upwards in spry
Towards grey sky, against the lie
That we were born to die

That we're always the cabin
We're always the paper
We're always the leaves
We make up the fire
If we aren't the trees.

Two trees grow together
Two trees brace the weather
We grow to touch the clouds
We burn the same fire
You're the Pine this tree needs
In this Forest Crowd