Love of the mountains
Two trees on the hillside of the mountain Always looking' up toward the sky Reminds me of my Papa and Mama Who lived there eighty years before they died Now a bright moon is shining in the valley An old wagon leans against a stack of hay Two graves on a hillside by a cabin My Mom and Dad are resting there today The burning of the greenwood on the fireplace The fallen snow around the redweed tree The branches of the laurel by the creek bed And the ripplin' waters the little stream * Refrain Papa used to talk about the young days When he and Mama first settled there He spoke about the love of the monutains That he and Mama shared together there * Refrain