Willow, Pine and Oak

We split folks into groups of threes and name them after kinds of trees.
It’s how I like to look at folks: As willow trees, or pines or oaks.
Willows are forgettable, they could be called a weed, and time with them’s regrettable: they’ll suck you dry when you’re in need.
They burst your pipes, and then their switches might be used to bust your britches.
No, willows aren’t my kind of tree.
They’re not a source of love for me.
We split folks into groups of threes and name them after kinds of trees.
It’s how I like to look at folks: As willow trees, or pines or oaks.
Pines give off a wondrous smell and they’re green throughout the year, make
a bed of needles soft as hell and bolster xmas cheer.
You bust their bark and they get sticky, embracing one is often tricky.
They’re lonely and that’s what ain’t for me.
I need to love a stronger tree.
We split folks into groups of threes and name them after kinds of trees.
It’s how I like to look at folks: As willow trees, or pines or oaks.
And so we find the able oak who changes colors, loses leaves.
Strength and patience ain’t no joke; that’s what this man believes.
I build a house, I build a chair, a table, bed, from that tree there.
An oak grows slowly and provides.
It’s with an oak my love resides.
It’s with an oak my love resides.
It’s with an oak my love resides.