Stan Rogers – Lookout Hill (Ukulele)

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There's a / spot far away you / all know well,

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A / place that's called the / Lookout Hill,

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Where the / rabbits hop and the / wildcats yell.

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How I / love that place no / one can tell.

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There are / trout streams there and / moose and deer,

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But you / never lay eyes on a / grizzly  bear,

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So / take your pack up - / on your back, and

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Head your way up the / Lookout Track.

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There'll / be a time when / I am old, and

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My / poor old bones are / stiff and cold,

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I'll / head to the Lookout with the / setting sun,

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When I / smell those spruce trees / I'll feel young.

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When the / lakes are frozen and the / brooks are high, and

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You / hear the owl in the / moonlight cry,

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I'll / head to the Lookout with / spirits high,

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Good - / bye my friends, it's / there I'll die.