There once was a %s brave pioneer,
We traveling by the old oak tree,
With lost love filling every heart,
And and that is why I mourn.
The old oak tree winds whisper low,
As waiting we roam,
Through redemption we go,
Far from our childhood home.
Each humble farmer shares a story,
Of memory's call and more,
The green valley holds their glory,
Now and forevermore.
Through triumph we find our way,
By old oak tree we stand,
Though brave pioneer may stray,
We join heart to heart and hand.
The drea...