Recorded by: Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellers
Written by: Wayne Chaulk
Can you hear the river flow, can you see the mist rise
Meet the towering clouds in the big mountain skies
See the wild roaring waters turn to still quiet pools
Holding centuries of cold mountain tears.

Voices have echoed since time began
From the call of the raven to the whispers of men
Songs in the darkness around driftwood fires
And the scream of the fisherman’s reel

The Castor, the Torrent, the River of Ponds,
Main Brook and St. Genevieve
May your wild mountain waters flow longer than time
And your mysteries forever hold me.

Dew drops, raindrops milked from the sky
Thunder, the lightning, the zest of July
Bled through the ghoudy, the mosses, the bogs
Giving life to the veins of our land.

Quiet, soulful mornings just the sound of the stream
Threads for the weaving of long winter dreams
Praise to the forces that brought us those gifts
Of the rivers where the noble fish go.

May we always be mindful, may we always show care
May we ever be thankful for the offerings they bear
Those gifts they are passed down from ancestors gone
And they’re borrowed from children to come.