And it wouldn't really work for me
The ancient Holocene
Well, it's all that I had hoped for
And the sun shines through the trees
The ponderosa leaves
Well, it's all that I had hoped for
See the mountains shake in the
Wake of death
Missing miner's gold on the
Precipice of green
And it wouldn't really work for me
The ancient forestry
Well, it's all that I had hoped for
And the spirit covers me
Bakowski vanished into dust
For all to see
There's a silent flame in the
Evergreen
Conifer, clear lake, and the
Old Man's mystery