Show me a place where the breezes are a-blowing
where pines shine green, that's where I'll be going
where weather's kinda fickle, and comes by chance
that's where I'm headed,  like a dancer to a dance.

Like a rooster to a hen-house, like a bee to the honey
it's freedom of the soul, and you don't need money
air where there's no stink, skies that glow so clear
where you lose your blues, with nature so **** near.

Where the sun is bathed in shadow, to ward off any heat
all you hear are footsteps; it's the sound of your own feet
the view from ancient hilltops is super-sweet and grand
and you marvel of creation, made by God's own hand.

There's the quiet all around you, still, the silence speaks
your reward, greatest grandeur, that weary hikers seek
that brings joy to your heart, sparing you from older pain
now, you know you've shed the hurt and it is on the wane.

Yes, there's a place I know quite well, where wind is blowing
and you've probably guessed by now, that's where I'll be going
with a knapsack on my back, and some cool water on my side
I'll see you - sooner or later- for now's the time I hide.