Where The Spruce tree grows.


Heavenly light shines on the patch, where all the little field mice go to nap,

Where the night owl perches so wise, where the breeze hits it softly at night.

Where the touch of man seems to fade, where you may hear a jingle bell sleigh,

This peaceful place was meant for you and me, a quiet place meant for peace,

This spot will forever grow, until next year the spruces should grow.

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