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While that snowgun blasts into |
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The future from the past |
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It blasts that phony snow that |
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Looks like cake mix down below |
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From my vantage here |
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Up on this mountain ski lift chair |
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I can see a lot but it's |
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Not always crystal clear |
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On my own |
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On Belleayre Mountain |
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Where the snowgun blasts on my own |
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On Belleayre Mountain |
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Where the snowgun blasts |
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The trail has a lot of turns |
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And one of them just made me pay |
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But I always knew those strong winds |
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Would come around and take you away |
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So I check my gear and make sure |
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Everything is strapped on tight |
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'Cos I've seen a lot of accidents |
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And that's why I'll be alone to night |
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On my own |
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On Belleayre Mountain |
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Where the snowgun blasts on my own |
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High on Belleayre Mountain |
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Where the snowgun blasts |
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The crystals block my vision |
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And it's hard and keeps the trail in sight |
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But just like snowflakes |
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No two of us are quite alike |
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So I check my gear and make sure |
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If everything is strapped on tight |
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'Cos I've seen a lot of accidents |
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And that's why I'll be alone tonight |
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On my own |
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On Belleayre Mountain |
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Where the snowgun blasts on my own |
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High on Belleayre Mountain |
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Where the snowgun blasts |
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Yeah on Belleayre Mountain |
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Where the snowgun blasts on my own |
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High on Belleayre Mountain |
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Where the snowgun blasts |
