The Wooded Hills Along the Black Sea

One, two One, two, three Cause no trouble Keep to our own kind Known to exist Hard to find Neck deep in our passions Serve who we serve Enshrouded in moonlight Bucking the curve Under the radar Just out of reach Among the thick woods A mile from the beach The burden of exile Gets easy to bear Sometimes forget There's cities down there Woodsmen with axes They come and they go Snitch to the prefect 'Bout what they don't know Smell the ocean breeze We will never run out of trees Under the radar Just out of reach Among the thick woods A mile from the beach, yeah --- The Wooded Hills Along the Black Sea - The Mountain Goats