The robins are telling me it’s Spring. I believe them. Birds do not lie.
They asked me to post a song I wrote years ago, about spring in the Virginia mountains.
It was sweet. Newport, a tiny old mountain town outside of Blacksburg, VA. Me and some other young
hippies kinda took it over. Nobody minded. It was a good thing.
Old Newport Waltz
Over the ridges, before all the bridges
the mountains heard only the sound
of wind in the forest, the time was before us
as peaceful as snow on the ground
And I cant help wondering, wondering how
we could get back to then, from now
Sing, sing, with the mountains in Springtime
Sing like it’s nobody’s fault
Sing, sing, with the deep rollin’ river
the Old, Old, Newport Waltz ©jpmcneil
there’s another verse….will see if anybody is interested….hear the song, here: