AS I WALKED IN THE FOREST, ONE FINE SUMMERS DAY,
TWIRLING DOWN, CAME THE SEEDS OF A SYCAMORE TREE,
AS THEY SETTLED THEMSELVES, GENTLY DOWN ON THE GROUND,
IN MY MIND, OLD MEMORIES WENT SPINNING AROUND.

I REMEMBERED MY YOUTH, WHEN I WAS QUIET SMALL,
THE OLD SYCAMORE TREE, BY OUR BACK GARDEN WALL,
AT TIMES WHEN NO ONE, WOULD COME PLAY WITH ME,
I CLIMBED TO THE LIMBS, OF THE SYCAMORE TREE.

IT WAS AT SUCH TIMES, ALL THINGS TO ME,
AS I SAT LOOKING OUT THROUGH, ITS GREEN CANOPY,
OVER ITS STOUT LIMBS, MY SMALL LEGS WOULD GO,
AS MY MIND TOOK ME WHERE, ONLY YOUNG KIDS CAN GO.

IT WAS MY COWBOY PONY, AND HE WAS SO WHITE,
AS WE CHASED RED INDIANS, FAR OUT OF SIGHT,
AND ALSO A TALL SHIP, TO SAIL THE BLUE SEA,
MY SAILS WERE THE LEAVES OF THE SYCAMORE TREE.

NOW WHEN E'ER I CALL IN, TO MY MUM FOR A CHAT,
ITS OFT' MY EYES STRAY TO THE TREE OUT THE BACK,
I STILL YEARN FOR A WHITE HORSE, AND A SHIP FOR THE SEA,
AND THE DREAMS OF A CHILD, IN A SYCAMORE TREE.

BEN999