This lyric is: #250

"Winter Hill"
©2001 Josh Lederman

Bronze was the lake in the fall,
The leaves from the trees covered all the green summer's grass,
Stomped in a path,
And overgrown five inches tall.

The tire swing shook in the breeze
With no one to push from the trees,
We snuck in the glade,
and squeezed lemonade
From old man Witherspoon's trees.

(chorus)
And the runaways and tramps
went on with their dance
They'd hid till the tourists pulled off
their white pants,
We skipped with a laugh
as we followed their path
That led behind yards we thought had fronts,
but never had backs.

And we watched with our breath held inside
Every so often we could see where they'd hide,
A branch wasn't shook by the breeze
If it offered a hand down to climb up the trees.

(chorus)
And we're runaways, tramps, Can I ask
for this dance?
With no one to see what fools are we,
We'll stay through October,
when the winter gets colder
I'll make you a sweater from the old
fallen leaves.

(chorus)
Well we swore we'd never leave,
made a wish on a breeze,
An old lovers' pact
that we'd never go back,
We strolled up Winter Hill,
till our lips felt the chill
And we longed to be back by the warmth
of the electric bill

But now I recall with a frown
The mountain we never slid down,
That flows to the pond
where the tire swing's gone,
'cause somebody cut it down

(chorus)
And the lake is unfroze,
and the girls show their toes
To our unending jinx, next to
bankers and shrinks,
Their daughters all smile,
and they kick off their shoes,
And not one of them missed us
the whole winter though.


[This message has been edited by blakeh (edited 09-02-2002).]