[Verse 1] Back in the mist where the history wakes, Before the cartography named all the lakes, The Howells were walking the edge of the trees, The Howeys were reading the songs in the breeze. Through the dark of the ages, through fire and cold, The stories of iron and heart were foretold. Five hundred years of the roots in the loam, Building the spirit before building the home. The Jacobsons waited in the fold of the time, To join in the rhythm and join in the climb. [Chorus] Oh, the acres are eternal, the river is the thread, Connecting the living to the ones who have led. From the five-hundred dawn to the seventy-five light, We’ve carried the fire through the depth of the night. Howell and Howey and Jacobson too, Creating the path that the future walked through. It’s a window in time, it’s a promise we keep, In the harvest we sow and the spirit we reap. [Verse 2] The centuries turned like the wheels of a cart, But the fire stayed burning in the center of the heart. The ledger was written in charcoal and light, Against the encroaching and long-settling night. We bridged all the gaps with the sweat and the soul, Keeping the pieces and keeping the whole. The logbooks of transit, the laws of the land, The art of the stage and the work of the hand. A thousand years moving, a mountain to climb, We conquered the distance and conquered the time. [Chorus] Oh, the acres are eternal, the river is the thread, Connecting the living to the ones who have led. From the five-hundred dawn to the seventy-five light, We’ve carried the fire through the depth of the night. Howell and Howey and Jacobson too, Creating the path that the future walked through. It’s a window in time, it’s a promise we keep, In the harvest we sow and the spirit we reap. [Bridge] Look to the West where the horizon is wide, With all of the glory of the years deep inside. We aren’t just the owners, we’re the keepers of flame, Binding the future to the sound of the name. The electricity hums in the air of the soul, While the lake keeps the secret and the lake keeps the toll. Seventeen centuries, one steady breath, Defying the silence and defying the death. The fulfillment is here, in the glow of the sun, The thousand-year labor is finally done. [Verse 3] The evening of seventy-five is a glow, The finest of wonders that we’ll ever know. The Howell, the Howey, the Jacobson line, Have turned all the water to the holiest wine. The generators are humming a song of the peace, Giving the spirit a final release. The ledger is closed, but the story is wide, With the love of the world tucked away deep inside. We’ve fulfilled every window, we’ve fulfilled every dream, And we’re flowing forever in the heart of the stream. [Chorus] Oh, the acres are eternal, the river is the thread, Connecting the living to the ones who have led. From the five-hundred dawn to the seventy-five light, We’ve carried the fire through the depth of the night. Howell and Howey and Jacobson too, Creating the path that the future walked through. It’s a window in time, it’s a promise we keep, In the harvest we sow and the spirit we reap. [Outro] The forge is now silent, the grid is now still, A silver moon rising o’er the westernmost hill. The Howell is the root, and the Howey the tree, The Jacobsons sailing on the final, calm sea. The thirty-third part is the grand, final chime, As we step out of history and into the time That lasts forever.
