I've got to get back to the tall timber soon,
Back where the big firs saw at the sky.
Back where I rise to the cries of a loon,
Back where the osprey and eagles still fly.
The city and its woes scare me to death,
The squalor and stench burns in my eyes.
My heart is pounding I can't catch my breath,
To tell you the truth, I'm sick of the lies.
The bells and whistles, the honking of horns,
The screech of tires the curse and the yell.
I need to wake up to clear, quiet morns,
To be stuck in this city's like living in hell.
I'm gagging on a swill, mistaken for air,
And I can't trust a soul that I see.
I'd just as soon lie in a rattlesnake's lair,
I can't stay in the city, I need to be free
I need to have my campfire at night,
I've got to be able to count my stars.
I'm blinded by the glare of the city's light,
I'm froze like a deer in eyes of their cars.
I've got to get back amid valley and peak,
I need a good lashing from the wind and rain.
I crave the culture of a babbling creek,
I've got to get back to my mountains again.
I've not seen a smile since I looked in the mirror,
Their taut furrowed gaunt faces tell of their fears.
They scurry like mice, amid the din and the furor,
And they've all got cell phones stuck in their ears.
I gave it my best,
I failed your test,
Now, I need some rest,
I need a good lashing from the wind and rain,
I've got to get back to my mountains again.
-- Michael Barker
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