From far beneath the timbre line
I start the journey up
Up up along the line
I weave on through the trees
Soon the wind
Howling so loud
Beats my face with fury
And all at once
I jump the ship
And battle my way down the hill
With instant action
I barrel forward
Into the white unknown
Every corner
And Every wind trap
Sends me flying into the air
But the beauty of flight
In such conditions
Is every landing is padded with snow!