She came to me, said she knew me, said she'd known me a long time,
And she spoke of being in love, with every mountain she had climbed.
And she talked of, a trail she walked up, far above the timberline,
From that night on I knew I'd write songs with Carolina in the pines.

There's a new moon on the fourteenth, forth quarter twenty-first,
and the full moon in the last week, brings a fullness to this Earth.
There's no guesswork in the clockwork of the world's heart or mine,
there are nights I only feel right with Carolina in the pines.

When the frost shows on the window and the wood stove smokes and glows,
As the fire grows we can warm our souls watching rainbows in the cold.
And we'll talk of, trails we walked up, far above the timberline,
there are nights I only feel right with Carolina in the pines.