The dying Banksia tree

The garden be a sad old place

The tree is slowly dying

My lovely ancient Banksia tree

Why look at it, it's crying!

We built our house around this tree

It was a blessing from the wild

Now, too much water's taken toll

And cramped the poor tree's style

The parrots, they come to this tree

Galah's, Corellas, too

Came here to eat it's candle fruits

They'd come the whole day through

But now my lady slowly dies

These birds no longer call

I loved my grand old Banksia tree

At times life can be cruel.

I'm going to cut it's branches off

And let it stand in death

Then grow some climbers up it's form

So up it's trunk they'll spread.

Yes, morning Glory, scented jasmine

Honeysuckle too

Will clamber up this old dead tree

And make it look brand new.