Sweet Leaves and Carnival Dreams

October breeze

is rolling down the ridge

Passing over the creek

and the wooden bridge

The park is glowing

in a golden light

With thousands of pumpkins

waiting for the night

I smell the cinnamon on the wind

That's where the mountain magic begins (oh-oh-oh)

Down at the fall festival,

we're walking slow

With a warm apple dumpling

and the firelight glow

Fried green tomatoes,

cider in our hands

Listening to the pickers in the bluegrass bands

Underneath the Smoky Mountain sky

The skillet's frying up the sausage and the beans Brightest colors that

you've ever seen We share a slice

of hot persimmon pie

And watch the sparks from the bonfire fly

I smell the cinnamon on the wind

That's where the mountain magic begins (oh-oh-oh)

Down at the fall festival,

we're walking slow With a warm apple dumpling

and the firelight glow

Fried green tomatoes, cider in our hands

Listening to the pickers in the bluegrass bands

Underneath the Smoky Mountain sky

Laughter ringing through the craft fair stalls As the cool autumn twilight

softly falls

Handmade quilts and wooden toys Every simple thing that brings us joy (yeaaaah)

Down at the fall festival,

we're walking slow

With a warm apple dumpling

and the firelight glow

Fried green tomatoes, cider in our hands

Listening to the pickers in the bluegrass bands

Underneath the Smoky Mountain sky

Smoky

Mountain

sky...

Just you

and I... At the fall festival...