Blow wind
Tearing down my leaves
Thunder roll
My roots shiver not
Oh come little boy hide from the rain

Rest now
The sun has found its way
Shy your fears
My arms shiver not
Oh come little boy tell me your name

My name is Charles Waters I live past the hill
My father would farm but he's seven years ill
The fields have grown tall with the weed and the wild
My home it is broken, one mother one child

Rest now
You will soon forget
My thick shade
It will leave you not
Oh stay little boy I will stand strong

This field
I have called my home
Many years
Lonesome as they pass
Oh here little boy I've been all along

Sleep it has come it is dressed in a black robe
My fears have grown fertile, the night has slowed
A figure stands tall his face white as moon
I am so young, shall my father die so soon

Listen
I will tell you this
Years have come
To only ease despair
Oh of this little boy I am ashamed

Men came
One of them was charged
A thief of bread
They would spare him not
On hung on my branch can I be blamed

A new day
Is all that I have left
But I am full
My roots shiver not
Oh come little boy hide from the rain