Lyrics

THE HOUSE AT THE END OF THE ROAD

She stood underneath the locust and silver maple trees
More than a hundred years ago
When sounds of music filled her rooms and drifted out the door
Of the house at the end of the road

Today the grand old farmhouse sits just beyond the field
And larkspurs standing tall
She rises from the middle of a little patch of green
And I wonder if she’s really changed at all

CHORUS:
The house at the end of the road
Keeper of the music, treasures to behold
Songs on silver strings, friendships made of gold
At the house at the end of the road

When she was very young, on Saturdays they’d come
To leave behind their worries and cares
The players trading songs, and friends to sing along
And sit among a circle made of chairs

And when a hundred years have passed, summers, springs and falls
And a hundred winters cold
With tender loving care, she’ll still be standing there
At the end of the road

The house at the end of the road
Keeper of the music, treasures to behold
Songs on silver strings, friendships made of gold
At the house at the end of the road

She stood underneath the locust and silver maple trees
More than a hundred years ago
When sounds of music filled her rooms and drifted out the door
Of the house at the end of the road