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Morning mist
on the mountain side
Deep green valleys
where the rivers hide
Walking paths where the shadows blend
Following roads that never end
Oh, Blue Ridge, carry me home
Under the pine and the open dome
Where the wild grass grows
And the cold wind blows
(carry me home)
Dusty boots
on the red clay soil
Resting easy
from a hard day's toil
Watch the sun turn the ridges gold
Oldest story that was ever told
Oh, Blue Ridge, carry me home
Under the pine and the open dome Where the wild grass grows
And the cold wind blows (carry me home)
Blue Ridge... (hmmmmm) Carry me home