There's something bout a mountain stream The musky-sweet smell of autumn leaves That puts all of me At ease Like the petrichor just before it rains The odors trigger some memory An ancient thing down In my genes It makes the fall my favorite time Like the world prepares me to unwind Take things slower and Rest until the spring As kids we made big piles of leaves That once were green but now have changed To amber, crimson, ochre And vermilion Jumping in to hear the crunch Feel the crispness on our skin Breathe the lovely smell Of their decay Racing sticks as they float downstream Crossing creeks on fallin' limbs Chasing shadows As they grow longer Building huts of sticks and leaves Sit within and watch the sun Lower to the ground Way too early Harken back to simpler times Piles of leaves and singin' rhymes Cracklin' fires And Apple Cider No Internet and constant news Social pressures and weird taboos Just sittin' in the woods With Mother Nature There's something bout a mountain stream The musky-sweet smell of autumn leaves That puts all of me At ease Yeah mountain streams and autumn leaves That puts all of me At ease