There's something bout a mountain stream
The musky-sweet smell of autumn leaves
That puts all of me
At ease
Like the petrichor just before it rains
The odors trigger some memory
An ancient thing down
In my genes
It makes the fall my favorite time
Like the world prepares me to unwind
Take things slower and
Rest until the spring
As kids we made big piles of leaves
That once were green but now have changed
To amber, crimson, ochre
And vermilion
Jumping in to hear the crunch
Feel the crispness on our skin
Breathe the lovely smell
Of their decay
Racing sticks as they float downstream
Crossing creeks on fallin' limbs
Chasing shadows
As they grow longer
Building huts of sticks and leaves
Sit within and watch the sun
Lower to the ground
Way too early
Harken back to simpler times
Piles of leaves and singin' rhymes
Cracklin' fires
And Apple Cider
No Internet and constant news
Social pressures and weird taboos
Just sittin' in the woods
With Mother Nature
There's something bout a mountain stream
The musky-sweet smell of autumn leaves
That puts all of me At ease
Yeah mountain streams and autumn leaves
That puts all of me At ease