There, there, weeping willow, hush your silent cries.
Don't the others seem to see, the terror in your eyes?

Hush now, weeping willow, lift your arms to the sky.
Reach for the sun and clouds, and the birds that pass you by.

Quiet, weeping willow, for someone does love you.
You envelop them within your shade, that is cast upon the dew.

Sleep well, weeping willow, as the stars kiss you good night.
For morning comes soon, with the wind puts you in flight.

There, there, weeping willow, the saddest of all trees.
With your sagging trunk and roots, but mostly drooping leaves.

And yet the weeping willow, is her favorite tree of all.
Because she sees its tortured heart, and her problems seem so small.