Honey Tree
There's only one kind of fruit on its branches woe is me
When my lover came to me in the moonlight, glory be
A golden bird came alive on the branches of the tree
In the morning when the wind blew freely through the door
A golden plume laid alone in the sunlight on the floor
And my lover never came to the garden anymore
But the feather I will always keep with me. Honey Tree
Autor(es): Dan Wilson / John Munson / Matt Wilson