I stand by the five-fingered tree
the buds are sprouting merrily.
As I walk in the fields of green,
I spot a lonely willow tree,
The breeze blowing softly through its leaves.
The lake is sparkling in the midday sun
As I walk in search of fun.
I spot a swan in the glimmering lake.
It’s swimming softly through its wake.
That’s the story of the lake.