Jan Smith Gorham Mountain I travel a lonesome mile. In the meanwhile the road gets longer Sometimes the places I see, they become a part of me Their memory is stronger than what is real and I feel like maybe I've been blind to see not what I've got but what I've left behind I climbed Gorham Mountain. At the top I started shouting I ain't never coming down As the sky turned to black, I decided to go back head on into town where I had no friend so I went in into a friendly bar I listened round to the sound of people being who they are Every dream I've ever known, I don't think it's my own It is a hand-me-down like the concepts of love, the night sky above this little tourist town that lies beneath me as I breathe and try to find some sense when the stars can't be defied, because they never even tried to make a difference Blueberries grow on Gorham Mountain They grow wild and they grow sweet I looked down and I found them growing wild right there at my feet I travel a lonesome mile. In the meanwhile the road gets longer Now I'm feeling kind of spent. I'm wondering where it went this feeling I am strong or is it true, you don't have to do Lord anything at all but take one step or the other and then another and get up when you fall