Cask Mouse Mist Of The Pines
The stars shine brightly
Through the mist of the pines
The good kind of darkness
In the pale blue moon light
The babble of the brook
The brush of the trees
If you don't believe in Heaven
Believe in these things
My father and brother
My uncles and me
Built up this cabin
Where we could be free
To see all the stars out
In mist in the pines
The good kind of darkness
On the Barton, Sheffield line
It feels like it's been far too long
Since I've set foot on that gravel and stone
Stoked up the coals in the cast-iron stove
And listened to the sounds of being alone
Oh, how the years have battered
And the weather has defined
The grey on the north face
The grey on my mind
Though the stairs may have shifted
And the deck may be worn
The moment you walk in
It just feels like home
If you go on driving
Six miles past
The break in the asphalt
Where time seems to gap
Oh how the years have battered
And the weather has defined
The grey on the north face
On the Barton, Sheffield line
It feels like it's been far too long
Since I've set foot on that gravel and stone
Stoked up the coals in the cast-iron stove
And listened to the sounds of being alone
Like old loggers who cut roads
And left them behind
Their memories are scarred trees that fade over time
Winding those steep hills
In the landings above
Where boulders from glaciers
Simply gave up
Now, the wind doesn't speak much
But when it does it says
‘Home is where the heart is
No matter where you rest.'
Loggers who cut roads
And left them behind
Their memories are scarred trees on the Barton, Sheffield line
It feels like it's been far too long
Since I've set foot on that gravel and stone
Stoked up the coals in the cast-iron stove
And listened to the sounds of being alone