Evergreen

I was wielding my axe
drunk whisky at the bar
every night coming home
out the windshield of my car
I would look through the boughs
and think I saw my lucky star.
I was spreading my sheets
took dinner all alone
every night of the week
awaiting by the phone.
I would dab off my tears
with my favorite pine cone.
Needle prick my spruce root.
Dear little hemlock shoot,
Make me stay sharp,
and keen and evergreen.
I would tend to my bees
sell honey on the road
every fall in the wet
watching lorries take their load
And Iў‚¬"ўd get all my winnings
ask for special sap in code
In August three weeks
Iў‚¬"ўm back in village where I clip
all sorts of brambles and thorns
From up the hill I pip
In a little clay cup
the stuff I cross myself and sip.
Needle prick my spruce root
Dear little hemlock shoot
Make me stay sharp
and keen, evergreen.
I was casting my line
angling way the day.
The stream was swift, it was clear,
But the light was getting gray.
I bent down by the thistle
and thought of what it was Iў‚¬"ўd say.
Needle prick my spruce root
Dear little hemlock shoot
Make me stay sharp
And keen, evergreen.