I've been a traveler most of my life
I never took a home, I never took a wife
Ran away young and decided to roam
But now I'd like to see my mama and my papa back home
Well-a
Home, where the river runs cold
The water tastes good, the winters ain't cold
Home, where the trees grow tall
The home fires burn, the whippoorwills call
Well, I remember stories that my pappi used to tell
Yeah, my eyes would get big, and his chest would swell
I could sit for hours and listen with glee
As he'd tell of how he lived when he's a boy like me
Well-a
Home, where the river runs cold
The water tastes good, the winters ain't cold
Home, where the trees grow tall
The home fires burn, the whippoorwills call
Well, mama dear, mama do you still love your boy?
After all my roaming can I still bring you joy?
Mom sent a letter, got it not long ago
And she said "Come home" cause she's missing me so
Well-a
Home, where the trees grow tall
The home fires burn, the whippoorwills call
Home, where the river runs cold
The water tastes good, the winters ain't cold
Home, where the trees grow tall
The home fires burn, the whippoorwills call