Death of the Old Sequoia

It was back in the years
The rough and timber years
Our wagons and oxen so proud
We drove to the forest
Of enchanted trees
With heads held high up in the clouds

In amazement we stared
A hundred feet around
And four hundred feet in the sky
As I gently touched her bark
With the edge of my ax
The giants of the forest seemed to cry

Chorus:
For we stood where we stand
When this land was only land
And a Bethlehem stable baby cried
"For timber!" it was yelled
And a piece of history felled
On the day the old Sequoia died

Well the lumberjacks laughed
And they drank into the night
And danced in the sawdust and mud
And I counted her rings
Till my eyes could count no more
And the heartwood was nearly red as blood

I sat in my tent
And pondered in the night
The old tree had stood how many years?
And dewdrops from other trees
Were falling through the breeze
And they tapped on the cloth like Heaven's tears

For we stood...

For days we cut the wood
Where the massive tree had stood
And talked of all the money it would bring
And we loaded up our gear
To return another year
To fall another tree at every spring

For we stood...