Slow and steady,
never ending...
look to the sky
the bright red sun,
cascades there,
over the buttes it peeks.

My love
-the birds-
all sing a song,
to welcome the morning with cheer.
And say hello to the peeping sun,
as over the buttes it peeks.

I see a deer prance out of the forest,
Looking for fresh grass to eat,
He looks one way,
And then the other,
Then to the sun he walks,
Over the buttes it peeks.

To hear the moo of the cows,
The babies they want their milk,
The mothers they want their hay,
They wait for the farmer,
he comes with the sun,
As over the buttes it peeks.

Never failing,
It always comes,
I look for it when I awake,
As I stare out the window
The world unfolds,
As over the buttes it peeks.