Deep in the forest where the green grass grows,

there

is

a

tree.

The tree is tall

and the grass is small

and

there

is

the

tree.

Anything that you could think, like data links, or hockey rinks.

The

tree

knows

all.

Made of its boughs is a very small house.

There

in

the

tree.

There lives an old hermit and his little pet mouse.

There

in

their

house.

So if you were to venture one day into that same forest,

and you saw with glee this tree,

that one who knows all,

whose limbs make a house,

that happens to be inhabited

by a hermit and a mouse,

Well, I’ll say “yippee!”

‘Cause that tree is ME.