Wind was whistling,
Whistling a tune my heart obeys
And at the highest point of Squirrel hill,
I am counting backwards
I suppose I'm counting back the days
From the highest point on Squirrel Hill,
I see everything,
Every little piece becomes complete
I look out the way I never looked in childhood days
When all my hanging head saw was my feet
Walking a changing line,
Like the one between the sea and shore
I use that memory now, for an easy smile
My heart goes rushing through those open doors
-Jules Shear (1987)
-sung by Ian Matthews (1988)
