Tree, tree, you beefy tree,
how I want you to make love to me,
Your branches are brown, your trunk is so wide,
I'm almost certain I could fit inside.
Oh tree, Mr beefy tree,
You make me jump so high with glee,
and on failing that I watch you in awe,
Your beefiness moves me, I see not a flaw.
But tree, oh Mr beefy tree,
There is a problem, I'm sure you'll agree,
That our ages are different, far spread apart,
You grew up before me, you had that head start.
My friends tell me I should get over you,
But of course I tell them they have not a clue,
The beauty of you Mr beefy tree,
Is of course at the highest degree.
Now I shall end with a tearful goodbye,
And as I walk away both of us shall sigh,
And think about the good times, the happy and great,
Its just such a shame that you weren't straight.
