The angel tree has grown so high
And its roots are planted deep
Never climb that willow
'Cause its trunk is awful steep
Yeah the trunk is awful steep

Seven miles south of the city
Way on a windy hill
The whistling branches of the angel tree
Are calm at the evening still

Magical
As the leaves are
And strange things happen to people
Who go on to the windy hill

down here
Had gone up to there
And rested underneath her bough
They slept long, what is wrong
They never woke up again