Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway perform "Crooked Tree," the title track to their album, out now on Nonesuch Records: mollytuttle.ln...
Written by Molly Tuttle and Melody Walker
Molly Tuttle - Guitar, Vocals
Shelby Means - Bass, Harmonies
Kyle Tuttle - Banjo, Harmonies
Bronwyn Keith-Hynes - Fiddle
Dominick Leslie - Mandolin
Filmed at Hartland Studios in Nashville
Video Directed and edited by Michael Kessler
Recorded and mixed by Ryan McFadden
Mastered by Edsel Holden
#mollytuttle #goldenhighway #crookedtree
Lyrics:
Two trees in the forest
One was crooked, one was straight
Crimson bark and emerald needles
Growing day by day
And though they looked so different
They enjoyed the rain the same
Side by side
A chickadee had told them
Of a darkness on the land
The 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 see
A crooked tree won’t fit into the mill machine
They’re left to grow wild and free
Oh I’d rather be a crooked tree
The perfect trees were driven
Down the mountain to the mill
They turned them into toothpicks
And twenty 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...
Oh can’t you see
A crooked tree won’t fit into the mill machine
They’re left to grow wild and free
I’d rather be a crooked tree
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 growin 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…
Oh can’t you see
A crooked tree won’t fit into the mill machine
They’re left to grow wild and free
Oh I’d rather be a crooked tree
A crooked tree won’t fit into the mill machine
They’re left to grow wild and free
I’d rather be a crooked tree
Oh I’d rather be a crooked tree
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