As the months add up and the years roll by I realize more each day,
That our time on this earth is passing by and we'll soon be on our way.
I can't complain, for my life's been good and regrets, I have but few
But before I depart from this earthly place there are things I have yet to do.
Though I lay no claim to wealth or fame still, life has not passed me by,
For I was born a country boy and a country boy I'll die.
Big city life with its toil and strife, I chose for myself and yet,
As my mind slips back to my carefree youth there are things that I can't forget.
So I must go back to the old home farm again, just one more time,
To dabble my feet in a babbling brook and find a tree to climb.
Return to where I carved my name on the bole of a big beech tree,
And lie at rest in a leaf-filled nest that is known to only me.
To lie on my back in a field once more, on a beautiful summer's day,
While I turn my face to the cloudless sky and smell the fresh-cut hay.
There is life that teems in the woods and streams while birdsong fills the air
And I'll hear the knell of a far church bell as I lie so peaceful there.
And my childhood friends will gather 'round and they'll be as young as me
And we'll sit and we'll talk of our future plans for a life that is yet to be
But if I should gaze in the limpid pool beneath that old beech tree,
There'll be an old guy staring back, and I'll know that guy is me.
So I must go back to the farm again before I am too old,
To re-live, once more, a carefree time
and perhaps, restore my soul.