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.