He Was Born And Raised By The Mountain

He was born and raised by the mountain and the memories he retain
Of the old fields by the river flooded after heavy rain
And of the cold days of Winter when the chilly winds did blow
And the hill and the high fields by it wore their Winter cloaks of snow.

He was born and raised by the mountain where in the mildness of the Spring
On the hedgerows and the high wood the nesting birds did whistle and sing
The skylark flew above the mountain he seemed a small speck in the sky
And his carolling seemed to grow fainter as upwards and up he did fly.

He was born and raised by the moutain but far from the mountain he'll die
And when people ask do you ever feel homesick his answer is never not I
He now lives in the distant suburbs and the suburban life he enjoy
He will not even return for to visit the places he knew as a boy.

He will never again see the old fields and the wild hare in his coat of brown
In the coldness of a Winter's morning to warm himself run up and down
On the field by the foot of the mountain where the rill bank high downhill does flow
When rain on the high ground is falling and the hill wears a blanket of snow.