But twenty years on the hill is as bare as ever
Amongst the stones the trees refused to grow.
The sapling trees they died in the warmth of Summer
Amongst the stony ground that was so dry
The plants they needed water for survival
But no water for months did fall from the sky.
The Park workers came again a few years later
To plant more trees where their first plantings did fail
But in the Summer the plants again died for want of water
And once again their work to no avail.
There are no trees growing on the stony mountain
It looks a barren old brown hill today
‘Tis not a place for trees just going by Mother Nature
And Mother Nature always seems to have her way.

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