Being born in blocks of buildings with a subway lullaby,
When I dreamed of Appalachia it was dreams that had to die.
Coal trains wailing, banjos failing,
Sounds escaping through the night,
Oh, the face of Appalachia was there in that cold, grey apartment light,
In that cold, grey apartment light.
Oh, I would fashion,
I'd imagine somewhere steep with a waterfall,
Wild birds sing to a five string, bouncing music off the mountains walls.
Coal trains wailing, banjos failing,
Sounds escaping through the door,
Oh, the face of Appalachia, she was changing, that's for sure,
She was changing, that's for sure.
Grandpa made me quite a promise for the day I came of age,
He said he'd walk through Appalachia, Northern Georgia up to Maine.
Dreadful sorry, my beloved,
Such a promise he could not keep,
All my dreams of Appalachia, they were just an old man's memory,
Just an old man's memory.
