In the mountains where trees grow
I feel at home, clean and free
So much beauty I can see-
Just listening to the birds crow.
Where the rivers flow
And the cold is softened with tea
Watching the mountain as down rolls scree.
Taking along with it some snow.
Mist covers the tops of the rocks
Making red of your cold cheeks
It is heaven to take walks
In the fog enveloping the snowy peaks!
There among the faded plant stalks
I could spend the rest of my life in weeks.
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