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713
The Cranmore Shimobiles
Now when you go a-skiing
And a mountain you must climb,
Those days of huff and puffing,
Why, they are left behind.
It's not so much a struggle
As in the days gone by,
For now you ride the mountain
Like a bird that's soaring high.
You step into a skimobile-
The color's up to you;
There's red, and bright, bright yellow,
And some are painted blue.
They all have rubber tires
To make the ride complete,
And of comfort you are certain
In a cozy bucket seat.
You roll along the trackway
Up, up into the blue
Through beech trees, pines and birches
That God put there for you;
And when you've reached the summit
You view the country grand,
With Mount Washington as the climax
And then you understand
Why folks to here come flocking
From cities near and far
To ride up Cranmore Mountain
On board the little car.
So when the day is over,
And the sun has slowly set,
A toast to Cranmore Mountain
And the best day's skiing yet!!
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