[1] Two trees in the forest one was crooked one was straight
[6m] Crimson bark and emerald needles growing day by day
And [4] though they looked so different they enjoyed the rain the same
Side by [1] side

A chickadee told them of a darkness on the land
Spinning blades that came to visit carried by a man
And every other tree would see them cut down where they stand
By and by

Oh can't you [6m] see a crooked [4] tree won't [1] fit into the mill mach-[5]-ine
They're left to [6m] grow wild and [4] free
Oh I'd [1] rather be a [5] crooked [1] tree

Perfect trees were driven down the mountain to the mill
They turned them into toothpicks and 20 dollar bills
It seemed the more the people took The more they needed still
In the end

The crooked trees were left there after all the work was done
Now they go for weeks and never witness anyone
No one left to tell them if they're growing right or wrong
But the whispering wind

People say I'm different and my way of life seems strange
I took the road less traveled twists and turns along the way
But like the crooked tree I'm growing stronger day by day
As the clouds roll by

A river never wonders why it flows around the bend
A mountain doesn't question how it rose up from the land
So who am I to wish I wasn't just the way I am
Who am I