Caberfae Peaks

Geese start to fly in the blink of an eye I’ll be ready to go
High in the mountains a mythical fountain is ready to blow
A stag on the ridge sees a fox on the bridge and they silently know
That we don’t have to speak near the whispering creek like we did long ago

Sometimes I wake up at night and I see him
I can’t even open my eyes, still I know that he’s there
What kind of boy wants to grow up and be him?
What kind of man would I be if I lost all my hair?

The man in the lodge kept a gun in the garage and two poles in the snow
His mittens were leather, his favorite weather was twenty below
Born on the mountain he never went down in the bowl
Oh, the world may keep turning the sun may keep burning but he’ll never know

The man in the lodge kept a gun in the garage and two poles in the snow
His mittens were leather, his favorite weather was twenty below
Born on the mountain he never went down in the bowl
Oh, the world may keep turning the sun may keep burning but he’ll never know

Sometimes I wake up at night and I see him
I can’t even open my eyes, still I know that he’s there
What kind of boy wants to grow up and be him?
What kind of girl would I be if I cut off my hair?