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.