And the trees that stood in the woods out back
Lying by the roadway cut and stacked
And the logging trucks tear the two-lane down
It's a double line all the way to town
And these are the things that greeting my eyes
On the February morning drive
And these are the things that greeting my eyes
On the February morning drive
And I wave to Troy as it flashes by
Sun rising red in the eastern sky
And I look to my left at the flashing yield
See a murder of crows in a stubble field
And these are the things that greeting my eyes
On the February morning drive
And these are the things that greeting my eyes
On the February morning drive
And the chimney smoke is lying low
Shrouds the town in the valley below
And the morning dawning, sharp and fair
No breath of wind in the winter air
And these are the things that greeting my eyes
On the February morning drive
And these are the things that greeting my eyes
On the February morning drive
And the Winter's white is lying still
Over the fields and the shadowed hills
And far below the Spring sleeps sound
In the hardened heart of the frozen ground
And these are the things that greeting my eyes
On the February morning drive
And these are the things that greeting my eyes
On the February morning drive
On the February morning drive