Hollers and Heartstrings

There's a rising mist on the ridge tonight And the pine trees

stand in the fading light We don't need much,

just the land we keep And the ancient hills where our grandfathers

sleep

And that old creek sings its same old song

Reminding us where we belong

Oh, the mountain air is sweet and clean Living in the space

in between

With a

porch swing sway and

a firefly spark We trace the stars in the quiet dark (yeah,

in the quiet dark)

We got iron skillets and kitchen tables And we live by the

weather, not by labels It's a heavy soil but a simple grace

And a lifetime written on every face

And that old creek sings its same old song Reminding us where

we belong

Oh, the mountain air is sweet and clean

Living in the space

in between With a porch swing sway and a firefly spark

We trace the stars in the quiet dark

(yeah, in the quiet dark)

We don't need the city crowds

We just watch the passing clouds

Over the ridge, where the wild wood grows

That's the only life

this valley knows

Where the wild wood grows (mhhh,

back home)