The way I feel is like a robin
Whose birds have flown to come no more
Like a tall oak-tree, alone and cryin'
When the birds have flown and the nest is bare
Now a woman, lord, is like a young bird
And the tall oak-tree is a young man's heart
Among it's branches, you'll find her nesting
When the nights are cool, she is warm and dry
In leaves of green they will protect her
Her wings will grow, your love will too
But all too soon your mighty branches
Will fail to hold her, she'll fly from you
The way I feel is like a robin
Whose birds have flown to come no more
Like a tall oak-tree, alone and cryin'
When the birds have flown and the nest is bare