Come by the hills to the land
where fancy is free
and stand where the peaks meet the sky
and the rocks reach the sea
where the rivers run clear and the bracken
is gold in the sun
and cares of tomorrow must wait
till this day is done.
Come by the hills to the land
where life is a song
and sing while the birds fill the air
with their joy all day long
where the trees sway in time, and even
the wind sings in tune.
Come by the hills to the land
where legend remains
where stories of old stir the heart
and may yet come again
where the past has been lost and the future
is still to be won
and cares of tomorrow must wait
till this day is done.
Come by the hills to the land
where fancy is free
and stand where the peaks meet the sky
and the rocks reach the sea
where the rivers run clear and the bracken
is gold in the sun
and cares of tomorrow must wait
till this day is done.