Lyrics

The Apple Tree


A black and white photo
Is half-glued to the page:
A little starch-collared girl
Her family’s stern faces
Behind her in the church
Tell her not to go out into the world

There were twenty rings in the apple tree
When the gardener cut the big thing down
Twenty rings in the apple tree
Where the stump stood rooted in the ground

A picture in colour
Splashes off the wall
A strapping man in dungarees
The sunflowers he tends to
And the heather at his feet
Attract a swarm of little bees

There were sixty rings in the apple tree
When the gardener cut the big thing down
Sixty rings in the apple tree
Where the stump stood rooted in the ground
There were sixty rings in the apple tree
When the gardener cut the big thing down
Sixty rings in the apple tree
Where the stump stood rooted in the ground

The big moving image
How the child became his mum
Will never feature in the news
The wars that won us freedom
Overshadow all the years
The black and white girl had to lose

And that is how it goes in our families
Always something lost and something found
And the rings in those old and humble apple trees
Tell us what goes round, always comes around
And there’ll be so many rings in the apple trees
When the gardener cuts the last one down
There’ll be so many rings in the apple trees
Where those stumps stand rooted in the ground

There’ll be hundreds of rings in the apple tree
When the gardener cuts the last one down
Hundreds of rings in the apple tree
When the final trunk hits the ground.