 I lay awake nights and stare out of my windows, And listen to sounds I recall... Of very soft music and a whisper of laughter, As it floats on a nightingale's call.  Of songs that the woodland folks play; 'tis the time of the season, when the storms have all gone, It's time for the wee folks to play! Not a care, not a promise to keep And the night owl calls out, asking whooooo has disturbed her, For it's late, and she's trying to sleep!  Of the merriment -- and laughter abounds; The silly old otter, doing tricks to amuse us And the woodlands are filled with the sounds His basso voice helps fill the song; Alas, the jamboree comes to a head, As slowly come the graying of dawn.   And the whipoorwill's song starts to fade. The fox has gone home with her young ones to sleep In the depth of the woodland glade To dream of the Woodland Jamboree!! 
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