Winter Hill’s like hell with smoke and flames
People drive to view the garish glow
We need entertainment, it’s sublime
What must we look forward to next time?
We are kept well lulled by whiring shows
Winter Hill’s like hell with smoke and flame
As we watch, we wonder who’s to blame
Who has ventured where noone should go
To get us entertainment, is it crime?
Scotchman’s Stump where murder was on time~
I stood alone there when I was down low
Winter Hill’s like hell with smoke and flame
One afternoon, we walked past that old Barn
A stile led to a meadow years ago
To give us Sunday outings was no crime
Now I feel destruction like a blow
Rivington and Winter Hill,I know
On our hill, inferno, smoke and flames
Is it God or man that we should blame?
How my heart sings 