sometimes i feel like i'm made out of stone
strong to a point but then i crumble alone
sometimes i wish i were a forest of trees
drink in the sunshine and then sway in your breeze

sometimes i feel that you're made out of wood
strong and beautiful, you flex when you should
but when the darkness falls you stand firm and strong
because you know the sun was there all along

and why do i cry if all i am is rock inside
and you, with your grace under fire
your branches grow higher whether rain or shine

you and i should be a garden in bloom
cluttered and beautiful with blossoms anew
and whether rain or shine we'll ebb and we'll flow
no matter which-a-way the cold wind blows