On an old abandoned mountain trail
We came upon a long forgotten watermill;
It laid nestled in a long high valley...
Camp was made in the grassy meadow,
The cracklin' of the fire burnin'; with
The aroma of supper about done cookin'...
The moon glistenin' through the trees
Shinin' its light down on the stream;
Made little diamonds dance in the twilight...
Sounds of the creek runnin' over the rocks
While the bull frogs, and the crickets
Sang to us as we ate our supper this night..
A creakin' and a squeakin' as waterwheel turned,
Did make the whole evening come alive;
Ah yes, what glorious night it was going to be…
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