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Robin & Linda Williams
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These Old Dark Hills
When day is done and work is through
I seek the old familiar view
Those faithful confidants of stone
Truer friends I've never known
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These Old Dark Hills
On which sore eyes can rest
These Old Dark Hills
Ridge after ridge to the west
I hear the wind from a distant time
Blowing lonesome through the pines
From when the ancient wilderness
Was free of uninvited guests
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Father of the timber and the coal
Mother to the music of my soul
Sister of the quiet and serene
Brother to the land of broken dreams
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Oh, their grace and the majesty
Speak silently to me
And hold my gaze lovingly
How I ever long to see
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