The pine trees grow in tidy rows
All trained toward the distant sky
And in a blink they're tall enough
For man's needs to supply
But soft, swift flesh it cannot last
So brisk and nimble was the climb
And quickly as a mood or thought
The tender wood is lost to time
And I have a pocket full of acorns
I hold the mighty oak tree in my hands
And with every seed I sow the future of these lands
When the robin's young is fledged and flown
The magnolia tree with knotted limb
Extends to us a pretty promise
All attention paid to him
But to reach and touch this promise
Is to break his beguiling spell
To see behind the blossom
The crooked wood he sells
And I have a pocket full of acorns
I hold the mighty oak tree in my hands
And with every seed I sow the future of these lands
Now the old oaks of the forest
They've seen their share of winters cold
Drank their fill of summer storms
And listened to life's stories told
Their roots grow deep in English earth
They twist and braid our country's past
With timber strong they'll guard our future
Beam and bough and deck and mast
And I have a pocket full of acorns
I hold the mighty oak tree in my hands
And with every seed I sow the future of these lands
And with every seed I sow the future of these lands