Lookout Hill Stan Rogers

There's a spot far away you all know well
A place that's called the Lookout Hill
Where the rabbits hop and the wildcats yell
How I love that place no one can tell

There are trout streams there and moose and deer
But you never lay eyes on a grizzly bear
So take your pack up - on your back, and
Head your way up the Lookout Track

There'll be a time when I am old, and
My poor old bones are stiff and cold
I'll head to the Lookout with the setting sun
When I smell those spruce trees I'll feel young

When the lakes are frozen and the brooks are high, and
You hear the owl in the moonlight cry
I'll head to the Lookout with spirits high
Good - bye my friends, it's there I'll die

There's a spot far away you all know well
A place that's called the Lookout Hill
Where the rabbits hop and the wildcats yell
How I love that place no one can tell