Takysie Lake by Whiteheather

In the early morning when the sun is rising
We look over the lake, over to the horizen
All is quiet, not a sound to be heard
All but the Loon, as his wings he does spread
He takes off in flight, across our pleasant lake
As he gives chase, to the lonesome looking drake
This is, Our Takysie Lake.

Our Hosts, David and Rise, in our piece of Heaven
Is equal to all, to all our lucky sevens
We play in the evening, a game of cards
With Bob and Linda, and Bob's my pard
We play for dimes, and all he takes
Were here, here at our Takysie Lake.

In the twilight of the night, the reflection of the moon shimmering over the lake
the eerie sound of the Loon, as he cries, looking for his mate
Watching the Eagles soar, swooping down to catch their prey
the fish that swin so freely, the Eagles take away
There is a group of ducks, that come to us for food
To see them is so pleasant, to picture them so good
We take the boat out, and troll for fish, or just to have a break
This is our piece of Heaven
This, is our Takysie Lake

And so our time is at an end, down the road we go turning at every bend
We shall return in the days to come
Back to Takysie, to see the morning sun
With us we go, with the movies we make
Of our beloved, Our Takysie Lake.

C.F.M