Under the Big Oak Tree
Simon Fink
Where the blacktop ends
And the road unwinds
And the air gets hotter and thicker than the summertime.
Where the babbling brook
Meets the meadow fare
And the songs of the crickets and the sparrows all fill the air.
Won’t you take me down
Where the green grass grows
Way up on the hill there’s a spot that_nobody_knows/where_ nobody_goes.
And when I die
Won’t you bury me
Across the white valley, underneath the big oak tree.
(So let the music play
Let the river run free
Buryin’ my troubles underneath the big oak tree)
Where the dew settles down
On the cypress grove
And the honeybee dances with the flowers in the valley below.
And the dusky moss
Grows on the old stone well
And the frog sits by the water and sings until he drinks his fill.
Well they worked this land
‘Til their hands ran red
Carrying the weight of the day with them when they came back home to rest.
But now the creeks run dry
And the highways roll
And the crickets and the songbirds don’t come around anymore.
But when the air gets clear
On a cool spring night
You can still hear the wildcat prowling in the pale moonlight.
Or when the sky gets true
Like a robin’s egg
And the cool breeze whispers softly in rhythm right to your head.