Adirondack Fog

When the rain comes over the mountains Swirls into webs of misty grey

Before the clouds turn into fountains and my troubles all flow away

I will find you in the valley through the Adirondack fog

Where the sunsets can cure the color blind and you feel the hand of God

When the sky drops into violet on the road to Cooperstown

And the fields are fed a diet of steady mist rolling down

I will find you in the valley through the Adirondack fog

Where the sunsets cure the color blind and you feel the hand of God