[Verse 1] Last night I dreamed we'd found a stand of trees
Framing a pond and a field in between
And with a hammer and a blade and our four hands
Here's what we made

The logs we peeled and stacked in a ring
And then we crowned it, our tiny house, with tin
And by the fire, flickering bronze and gold across your face
I heard you say:

[Chorus] It may not be a grand parade of snow capped peaks
No river silver-backed crashing through
But we have our black-haired babes running free
Through the woods

Squirrels in the rafters, wrens in the eaves
Red dirt neath our nails, orange stains on our knees
Blackberries in June down the path without our shoes

[Chorus] It may not be a grand parade of snow capped peaks
No river silver-backed crashing through
But we have our black-haired babes running free
Through the woods

Squirrels in the rafters, wrens in the eaves
Red dirt neath our nails, orange stains on our knees
Blackberries in June down the path without our shoes