If you're traveling on your own, I can be your companion. In the mountains, we'll carve our prays there, and leave our footprints along the sides. We can sing songs with birds and harmonize with the naked creek. We can see nothing but the abundance of old pine trees for miles and miles. In these cold winters, the fog walks the grounds hiding the path. So hold my hand and be my guide for these hills aren't my native. We'll make our home in the low valley. Although you sleep in the day and I sleep in the night, there will always be a daybreak we could meet at. We must be up in some north country we must be loving our lives down in the mountains.