It's a tree with blood for berries and there's
Flowers of pure white for peace.
It's a tree that's rooted in memory
And it calls me to Paradise.

And this tree was planted long ago to windward of the night
And the rose wound its slow way 'twixt bough and branch towards the light.
And now white flowers and red berries against the dark shine bright.

It's a tree...

And the tree becomes a stronghold
When the winds of change are fierce,
And the berries are the bloodstains where the Lamb of God was pierced.
And white flowers are the symbol of new hope in coming years.

It's a tree...

Strange weather for the time of year,
Strange blossom on the trees,
Strange love that warms the hearts of man
For winters such as these,
Black yew tree in the winter with white flowers and red berries.

It's a tree...

It's a tree that casts no shadow,
With leaves that never fall,
With a power that has triumphed over
Death and Hell's enthral,
It's a tree that stands for eternity,
And a sacrifice for all.

It's a tree...