(Dolly Parton)
|
In a shingle covered cottage at the foothills of blue stacks
|
Near a mountain stream that's flowing crystal clear
|
Where the humming birds and honey bees feed on Mama's roses
|
My mem'ries just grow sweeter with the years
|
Mem'ries of my childhood are as sweet as mountain honey
|
And as fresh as a dew on morning glory vines
|
I grew up surrounded by the sights and sounds of nature
|
And they're forever present in my mind
|
|
But I'm headed in the wrong direction home
|
Headed in the wrong direction home
|
There's no place like home
|
But I'm headed in the wrong direction home
|
|
Teardrops mingled with the summer rain that was a falling
|
The day I left my mountain home behind
|
With a suitcase in my hand and a hope in my heart
|
I was following a dream I had to find
|
|
In that shingled covered cottage at the foothills of the smokies
|
Waits a family hat I'm longing to see
|
And mountain streams and fields of green
|
And rolling hills stay in my dreams
|
But I'm many, many miles from Tennessee
|
|
And still headed in the wrong direction home
|
Headed in the wrong direction home
|
But maybe I'll get back before too long
|
But I'm headed in the wrong direction home
|
|
-----------------
|
Wrong Direction Home
|
| Dolly Parton |
