Written by: Brian Cosgrove


                      The Summers early and its hot
                      Reluctantly I accept my lot
                      But I prefer the mountain air
                      When I was young and I was there
                      Youth ignores what’s round the bend
                      They think the day will never end
                      But age arrives, ready or not

                      Freedom is a mountain top
                      A feeling I have ne’re forgot
                      Where would I climb to it I would
                      What would I alter if I could? 
                      For I cry not for days gone by
                      As distant pictures float on by
                      There is a life that’s left behind
                      Freedom exists here in the mind