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             I think I see, my old four wheeler road,
             with the grass cut new, going through my daddy's field,
             and down one side, is a rusty barb wire fence,
             running all the way to the old barn on the hill. 

             I think I smell, the bacon on the fire,
             cooking by the old spring, running in my brand new pond,
             and I hope that I see, the deer that came last year,
             maybe this time they'll bring a brand new fawn. 

             I think I feel, the sweet winters chill,
             as the north winds wale, cutting through my neighbor's field,
             and the brand new morning sun, its feels so warm and real,
             as the darkness fads, and my heart starts to heal. 

 

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