In The Mountain Wood Of Mushera

In the wood by Mushera Mountain some two decades ago
I worked in all kinds of weather in wind, sun, frost rain and snow
Felling spruce and pine trees for a living so much per ton I got paid
In a job one more than earned every penny that one made.

But the Spring by Mushera mountain is a lovely time of year
And in my flights of fancy I imagine I can hear
The coo of the wood pigeon and chaffinch's familiar song
From once heard by their chirps and calls and whistles birds one never do get wrong.

Of the wood by Mushera mountain memories with me do remain
And often in my flights of fancy I visit there again
And the robin he is singing in the wind and in the rain
And the stormwater overflowing in the flooded mountain drain.

In the mountain wood of Mushera I worked many a hard day
Felling spruce and pine trees for a living had to work hard for my pay
But the nesting birds were singing all through April and through May
And I brought their music with me from the mountains far away.