Prettiest Tree on the Mountain

A robin flew by my window
I thought it just might be you
Judging from the color of its breast
And the sound of its song
But I'm just thinkin' of you

Cause you're in sunny California
"The Fertile Land," John Steinbeck wrote
But when I came not a single fertile patch
Could be spared for you and me

You see I wanted to love you baby
Like neither you or I'd been loved before
I thought I could change the world
If I just held you high enough
Truth is, I couldn't hold you up at all

I couldn't hold you up
I couldn't hold you up
And I sure ain't gonna hold you down

I'm leaving, I'm walking back home
I don't care if it takes years or more
But as I walk through the hills of Kentucky
The leaves begin to turn red

And I think of you
And I think of you
The prettiest tree on the mountain