Summer time somewhere in big bear,
Drives up the mountain are really rare,
But when I do, I take a second to stare,
While the breeze passes through my hair.
I'll watch the tree line come and grow,
Into a forest with thousands of rows,
In the middle sits a lake alone,
With kids on the edge skipping stones.
Summer time somewhere some place,
Up in the mountains with plenty of space,
Where the water has purer taste,
And the drive up here is never a waste.