The snaking trail, a gravelly maze,

climbing up, through the haze,

Clingman’s Dome.

We will not stop,

until atop,

Clingman’s Dome.

Here the spiny firs are bare of leaves,

pollution whisked them away like greedy thieves up on,

Clingman’s Dome.

Above the clouds, above the trees,

only here does the world seem at ease,

Clingman’s Dome.

When the starts rain pouring from the sky,

we’re off to where it’s nice and dry. Farewell,

Clingman’s Dome.