Yew’re just too wood to be hu[man]
(contracted homophone blue).
You feel like Redwood to touch—
I’m glad you’re no Elm that’s Dutch.
Though the tree didn’t survive,
still I thank Ma [Nature] you’re a-thrive.
Yew’re just too wood to be hu’. . .
branching out, my eye for you.

Hardwood’s for just what I care.
as long as you put it there.
A blight can make the leaves weak. . .
no weakness in your physique.
And you have got real appeal;
you feel as sturdy as steel.
Yew’re just dude wood ruby-hued;
I want your Pine in my Spruce.

I love you, shade tree that you were for sunlight,
a leafy shade tree that kept the sky from sight,
a lovely shade tree, but not meant up to stay.
Oh pretty shade tree, they cut you down one day. . .
no pretty shade tree as on the ground you lay.
Oh pretty shade tree, gone the Geppetto way.
Now let me love you shade tree that was sawed through.

Yew’re just doomed wood to be hewed;
branching’s a lance that I viewed.
You feel like Eb’ny to touch;
I wanna hold it so much.
It looks like a wood that drives
from a wood tee on par 5.
Flew the orb aimed not so true. . .
landed in rough, where we grew.

I love you, shade tree that you were for sunlight,
a leafy shade tree that kept the sky from sight,
a lovely shade tree—now you’re up meant to stay!
Oh pretty shade tree, they cut you down one day—
now give me, baby, a great, resounding lay.
Oh pretty shade tree, buck me—not the saw way!
Now let me love you shade tree, wrench your co’nes too.