The air is cool
It smells of blooming flowers
Coffee and cream
The quietness is music to my ears
The wind flowing to the rhythm of the music
I come back to reality when the church bell rings
It's every ding echoing into the mountains and through the streets of the village born here
The sun hugs my skin with its tender warmth
The grass folds neatly beneath my feet with every step
My eyes soak up the sights they see
My mind turns over and over as I try to convince it that yes I am sitting on a bench upon a hill in Austria
I feel as if I could sit here until the day I die
My worries withered
By problems crumbled
Suddenly chirping beams through the trees
It's loud yet quiet
The bells ring to tell the village its 6:30
It's time to go
Five more minutes
I want to plant my feet upon this hill and grow here
Not back where I call home
Not in a school
Right here upon this hill
I will learn new songs from the birds
Learn to be patient from the flowing creek
Learn to be loving and always friendly from the mountains which spend eternity together
And I will learn to live freely from the wild flowers blooming where they wish
And the hill, this hill, is where I will learn to grow as myself
Upon a hill in Austria, I will stay