Walking down the country lane,
In a cold so cold it freezes pain.
Shivers running down our spines,
Wind whispers in the pines.
Amish country; it’s peaceful here,
A horse and buggy are drawing near.

Big red barns that we walked past,
Trotting horses moving ever so fast.
Two small doves, one black, one white,
Resting now, before their flight.
Amish country; it’s peaceful here,
A horse and buggy are drawing near.

Two brown Clydesdales we’d soon pass,
Walking slow and eating grass.
Hiding there behind the fence,
All our emotions they seem to sense.
Amish country; it’s peaceful here,
A horse and buggy are drawing near.

They walk forward and so do we,
Their breath in the air, we now can see,
They reach out to touch my hand,
Their fur and muzzles like soft sand.
Amish country; it’s peaceful here,
A horse and buggy are drawing near.

Two cousins and two horses, standing side by side,
Who else will come to join our ride?
City and country join in the fields of hay,
In the tall grass where we then lay,
Thinking of our glorious day.
Amish country; with air so clear,
The horse and buggy are finally here.