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. Chorus: Home, where the rivers run cold, The water tastes good, the winter ain't cold. Home, where the trees grow tall, The home fires burn, and the whippoorwills call. I remember stories that my daddy used to tell, 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. Repeat chorus Mama dear, mama do you still love your boy? After all my roamin' can I still bring you joy? Mom, you sent a letter, got it not long ago, And she said to come home 'cause you're missin' me so. Repeat chorus
Copyright 1959 by Tree Publishing Co.