In my mind I see a picture and my thoughts begin to roam
to the rollin hills and valleys that surround my childhood home
I can almost smell the flowers growing wild along the track down to the stream.
I hear grandpa telling stories sitting on the front porch swing
scattered all around are pages of the songs that I would sing
and there I am cross legged with a dream
I'd sing coat of many colours, I knew every word by heart
and I'd fumble through the changes on an old flat top guitar
make believe the city hills rolled into the smokey mountains tennessee.
I'd swap bubble gum for curtain calls with other kids my age
and the shows would last for hours on the Opry tree house stage
and the dreams of little children echoe still, on Blackwood hill.
I recall the day I packed my bags and waved Blackwood goodbye
Every day was full of music, family and best friends.
troubles of the world erased, by games of lets pretend.
Chorus
The little girl inside of me is dreaming still, on blackwood hill.