Run up the hill To the old oak tree Above its roots But beneath its budding leaves You'll build castles Win battles, tell a thousand tiny stories Roll down the slope To the sunlit sea Above its depths You will be The captain of a ship, A galleon with a loyal crew of three Hide behind the barn Oh the smell of fresh-cut grass And turn your little eyes To the martins flying fast Through your garden Through your kingdom, 'til you're called inside at last