In the quiet of the evening, under skies of amber glow,
I hear the whispers of the mountains, where the wildflowers grow.
With a glass of whiskey in my hand, and the stars begin to rise,
Timeless melodies are playing, 'neath the canvas of the skies.
Cowboy boots on weathered roads, where the summer haze rolls through,
Every step a memory, painted in a golden hue.
Roaming spirit calls my name, through the valleys and the hills,
Singing songs of love and loss, and the freedom that it fills.
The night wraps its arms around us, with a soft and tender touch,
In the glow of fading daylight, oh, it feels like so much.
With laughter lost in moments, and the echoes of our dreams,
We'll dance beneath the silver moon, as we float on midnight streams.
So let's raise a toast to the wanderers, and the stories never told,
To the weathered hands that crafted them, and the truths we all uphold.
With every note a memory, in the heart where the music beats,
We'll carry that mountain breeze, wherever love and laughter meet.
With the whiskey nights behind us and our roots deep in the ground,
Our hearts will always wander, yet together, we are found.
In the twilight's gentle sigh, as the memories start to tease,
We'll forever chase that feeling, wrapped in that mountain breeze.
Country
Mountain breeze, whiskey nights, timeless melodies, cowboy boots, summer haze, weathered hands, roaming spirit