Rocks in the river and the stones in the stream
and all the pretty songs that the birds don't sing
if you want to talk about you and me
you'll find me up there among the quaking trees
the way's out the valley and the roads unknown
and the stream keeps on giving where ever she goes
if you want to talk about you and me
you'll find me up there among the quaking trees
Like the old oak tree
like the western breeze bring sweeter things
I know there’s a hole outside
as the fires dies I can hear the cry