Testo Central Tree

Two old oaks grew on a hill where I was raised,
they were both wise long before I was even alive.
One came down, yet the other still grows.
Twisted and ancient she was a twin with no match.
When we die, that oak will still thrive,
those roots will grow deeper long after our lives.
When we die, that oak will still thrive,
those roots will grow deeper long after our lives. While the snow masks the sound for those sleeping below,
the stonewalls are a framework for every smile
that I ever got to know and our vision went dim on our yesterdays
(I've seen much darker days).
Your past is gone, you are the only one who will still hold on.
Our past is gone and you are the only one who will still hold on.