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Unknown Miscellaneous View From Home The View From Home Bryan Bowers Black crow sitting on a red roof, house on a hill Old yellow truck in the driveway got some miles on her still Out front the pavement's buckled where the roots have taken hold To the south lies the mountain, a glory to behold Down on the lake, countless boats are sailing Up on the shoreline, a single figure runs And off in the distance, the Cascades rise fiery Burned in gold by the setting sun Up north lies Alaska, our last true frontier Out west lies the ocean, and Olympics so near Back east lies madness, say what you will Say I'm a maniac, singing on a hill Out on the road, we tell all the turkeys Yes it's always raining and the sun never shines But all the natives know when the mountain lifts her skirts The view from home will flat-out melt your mind @home filename[ VIEWHOME MC ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY=== |
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