The pine trees grow in tidy rows All trained toward the distant sky And in a blink they're tall enough For man's needs to supply But soft, swift flesh it cannot last So brisk and nimble was the climb And quickly as a mood or thought The tender wood is lost to time And I have a pocket full of acorns I hold the mighty oak tree in my hands And with every seed I sow the future of these lands When the robin's young is fledged and flown The magnolia tree with knotted limb Extends to us a pretty promise All attention paid to him But to reach and touch this promise Is to break his beguiling spell To see behind the blossom The crooked wood he sells And I have a pocket full of acorns I hold the mighty oak tree in my hands And with every seed I sow the future of these lands Now the old oaks of the forest They've seen their share of winters cold Drank their fill of summer storms And listened to life's stories told Their roots grow deep in English earth They twist and braid our country's past With timber strong they'll guard our future Beam and bough and deck and mast And I have a pocket full of acorns I hold the mighty oak tree in my hands And with every seed I sow the future of these lands And with every seed I sow the future of these lands