I don't know the date, but I was seven or eight
When we moved from the Midwest plains
To the Cascade Range, where the foothills boast
Tall mountains, like Shuksan.
We found a home out there, amidst fresh mountain air,
Where pine forests never end,
In a western land, with a vista grand,
Where the clouds and the mountains blend.
Its deceptive skies fill your mind with lies.
The horizon seems to flow.
Your eyes can't tell the ocean's swell
From the clouds, or the mountain snow.