Calling Me to Come Home

The mountains are alive, calling me to come home.
Country grasses are singing wherever I may roam.
Little coal camp houses, tiny but strong,
Join in my soul-filled song.

I'm dreaming of strolling bare-foot up narrow dirt roads,
And leaving behind all my cares and heavy loads.
Friendly neighbors always asking for a visit.
With such an avalanche of kindness, you dare not dismiss it.

For now I must stay where pleasures are few, and burdens are many.
But I know one day that I will leave the raging city.
To return to the one place where I keep my heart and soul,
My peaceful retreat, in my little country home.