The Mighty Oak

This is a story to be told About a man of old He said that he would Never rise In the ground would he reside Never would he face God His remains would rot and make sod So he a plan devised This plan totally made by man On his grave he would have placed Ten inches cement fully ingraved Never would he come out of that ground He would have a ton of dirt all around No way would his body come out No way would he rise and shout Just rot and rot and decay Then one day a squirrel would play Right on his grave he did stay Chewing a nut to get to meat He just wanted a treat to eat Something frightened the squirrel away Then it rained right away on that day Leaving the acorn exposed to sprout Then the angels all did shout That acorn sent down a shoot That shoot began to take root From that a mighty oak Large enough for hundreds of post Sent its tendrils of roots around Coming up from the ground Forcing open that slab of cement His body rose with a lament