Tree in Newfoundland

I stand strong on a blistery hill

I watch the sea roll and churn with the tide

When a lover came by with a knife in his hand

And drew forth his blade; cut through my side

As snow falls down from a gloomy grey sky

That lover returns with a rose crimson red

He lays it a my feet with a shivering hand

Then left me to watch over a city so dead

Looking over the cliffs at the summer storm

The lover returned one night, then ran away

And years passed by, the rose was lost

He left for the world, while I must stay

Years passed by slowly, five and then ten

When the lover returned with a girl in tow

He pointed to the heart he stabbed in my side

Then pointed to the water and whispered, “Let’s go.”