The Man He Was

In a village in the woods they plant a tree for every newborn babe

So they sowed a seed for a child named John and they watched it day by day

The tree it grew in a very strange way as twisted as a knot

And the child he grew in the very same way and never would his parents have thought

The lad was bright and her learned to read as well as he could talk

But his limbs were as twisted as the tree and never would he walk

People would come to stop and stare and you could hear them say

It doesn't seem to me to be quite fair and then be on their way

Sing a song of joy, lift your hearts in song

For a newborn boy, for a life that's long

Now he loved the tree even though it was as twisted as himself

For somewhere deep inside his soul he thought of nothing else

And the boy he grew did the best he could but his limbs remained the same

Well whoever listens who will understand someone who is lame

Some came to cry and some came to laugh the day he passed away

He's really not dead he's just taking a nap I heard somebody say

I really can't explain the tree had died, it withered without love

Now a stump remains to remind us of the man that he was

Sing a song of death, sing a song of peace

Sing a song of rest and a song of relief

Till the end of time

Till the end of time

Till the end of time