This mountain knows my every move
From memories pulled like frigid springs
It remembers how my childish feet
Once loved to steer, and weave, and groove
This mountain knows my through of through

And even when old days are spent
And my parents go into their own recluse
My children will find a youthful strength
And stammer with joy about
And why?
Because this mountain loves the way we move

I can feel it still
I can sense it through