There's children in the water, down by the sea plane dock
Old man whittling a black bear out of a cedar block
Hippies carrying back packs, they got the wings to fly
Lookin' for a patch of blue in the iron Adirondack sky
Look around all you see is a stack of stone
That old Blue Mountain, that's my home
Back there in the city, you're some kind of wheel
You come up to the country, try to make some shady deal
You can build your mansion on the sacred burial ground