The hills are alive with the sound of music, with songs they have sung for a thousand years,
the hills fill my heart with the sound of music, my heart wants to sing every songs it hears.
My heart wants to beat like the wings of the birds that rise from the lakes, to the tres
my heart wants to sigh like a chime that flies from a church on a breeze
to laugh like a brook when it trips and falls over stones, on its way
to sing through the night, like a lark who is learning to pray.
I go to the hills when my heart is lonely, I know I will hear, what I've heard before
My heart will be blessed with the sound of music, and I'll sing once more
