There stood an old tree
Swaying gently in the breeze
Forever bathed in silver
Embraced by darkness
Night her eternal lover
Day forever unknown
Covered in darkness
An eternal stranger to the light
Happily she prospered
Swaying gently in the breeze
Wind gently Ruffles her leaves
And she whispers sweet thing
To be carried by the wind
Her whispers travel gracefully
Flowing seductively to her lover
Sending shivers through him
He sings her sweet melodies
Carried by the wind
Penetrating her to her very soul
