To my love, Clint, on his birthday! I want to sit on that mountain and listen to the sweet whippoorwill sing us "goodnight" again.
My love is deeper than the holler, stronger than the rivers
Higher than the pine trees growin' tall upon the hill
My love is purer than the snowflakes that fall in late December
And honest as a robin on a springtime window sill
And longer than the song of the whippoorwill
Higher than the pine trees growin' tall upon the hill
My love is purer than the snowflakes that fall in late December
And honest as a robin on a springtime window sill
And longer than the song of the whippoorwill