When I was young and in my prime (in my prime!),
I left my home in Caroline.
Now all I do is sit and pine, for all those folks I left behind.
I got the Blue Ridge mountain blues, and I stand right here to say,
`My grip is packed to travel, and I`m back to ramble,
To my Blue Ridge far away.`
I`m goin` to stay right by my Pa, I`m goin` to do right by my Ma,
I`ll hang around the cabin door, no work or worry anymore.
I got the Blue Ridge mountain blues, goin` to see my old oak tree,
Gonna hunt the possum where the corn cob blossom,
In my Blue Ridge far away.
I see a haze of snowy white, I see a window with light,
I seem to hear them both sigh, `Where is my wand`rin boy tonight?`
I got the Blue Ridge mountain blues, and I stay right here to say,
`Every day I`m countin` `til I climb that mountain,
In my Blue Ridge far away.`
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