Sing, Oh, Mountains, the faithful tune
The valleys try to understand
Sing it often, sing it soon
Your masterpiece so grand.
Sing it from the highest mountaintop
To the lowest valley below
Sing it faithful and never stop
Sing it with the winds that blow.
Meadows of golden grain
And fields of barley wheat
Understand every strain
And interpret every beat.
Your tune is carried across this land
By the winds that blow and the sun that shines
So sing now by nature’s command
And sing now by immaculate design.
Sing, Oh, Mountains your faithful song
As hummingbirds hum the words they don’t know
Sing it to the day that’s long
And sing it to the trees that grow.
Sing, Mountains your wonderful chorus
Sing it for the birds that fly
Sing it, especially for us
That live and die.