The Lookout Tree

The Lookout Tree

Middle of the city, in a patch of wood
World’s best climbing tree stood
Sap on my fingers, scrapes on my knees
Eight years old, climbing up a tree

When my heart was heavy, and I couldn’t feel free
I’d find shelter in my lookout tree

O Grandmother, Grandmother Lookout Tree
You held me high in your canopy
Way up there, where I could see
My way out of the woods

Now there’s wrinkles in my fingers, pains in my knees
Older now, climbing in my dreams
Houses stand where my tree once stood
But her roots run deep in my soul for good

When this crazy world takes a toll on me
I take refuge in my lookout tree

O Grandmother, Grandmother Lookout Tree…