Sons and Fathers

We ride to the place beyond the pines

Through steep hills and broken paths

Unforgiving slopes and twisted turns

On roads well traveled

To a place untouched and unknown

We travel there

As sons and fathers

We ride to the place beyond the pines

Through the heavy rain and morning mist

No words nor sounds can permeate

Silence that clings on without remorse

Loosens its grasp only when the end is near

That place beyond the pines

We travel there

As sons and fathers

I  ride to the place beyond the pines

Through bristling trees and subtle breezes

Eternal sunshine then sudden darkness

The end is finally is seen

Forgiving the path becomes

Familiar the troughs and ditches 

The rough slopes and turns seem

Leading to that place unforgotten

Yet found for the first time

That place beyond the pines

I arrive there

As a son

And a father