(Dolly Parton)
|
From a shack by a mountain stream
|
To a room in New Orleans
|
So far from my Blue Ridge Mountain home
|
The men I meet ain't warm and friendly
|
Like the one in old Virginie
|
Oh they ain't real like my Blue Ridge Mountain boy
|
I was just a little past eighteen
|
When I came to New Orleans
|
I'd never been beyond my home state line
|
There was a boy who loved me dearly
|
But I broke his heart severely
|
When I left my Blue Ridge Mountain boy
|
|
Life was dull in my hometown
|
Lights were out when the sun went down
|
And I thought that city life was more my style
|
But nights get lonely away from home
|
And it's easy to go wrong
|
The men ain't kind like my Blue Ridge Mountain boy
|
|
New Orleans held things in store
|
Things I'd never bargained for
|
And every night a different man knocks on my door
|
But late at night when all is still
|
I can hear a whippoorwill
|
As I cry for my Blue Ridge Mountain boy
|
|
Oh but I can never go back home
|
Since the boy I love is gone
|
He grew tired of waiting for me to return
|
They say he married last October
|
But I never will get over
|
Oh the sweet love of my Blue Ridge Mountain boy
|
|
Blue Ridge Mountain boy
|
|
-----------------
|
My Blue Ridge Mountain Boy
|
| Dolly Parton |