(New Version! The vocals and chorus are totally different.) You can always try to go home, but home might not be there when you get there.
When I was young, I spent a lot of time in the Smoky Mountains, on my uncle's farm. I used to love sitting on the porch in an old rocking chair and watching the rain move across from the mountain to the valley. Today, the farmers' fields I used to roam are subdivisions, and the scenic view I enjoyed so much is gone forever. Of all the songs I've written, I think this is the most personal.
I remember sitting on the porch in that old rocking chair
The smell of fresh cut clover in the mountain air
And the gentle summer rain across the mountainside
Falling from the Carolina sky
I remember the long days of summer in the company of my friends
And the dread chill in the night air that signaled summer's end
It was more than forty years ago and a thousand miles away
But I can see it in my mind, as clear as yesterday
I think about my friends and family, but one thing is sure
I just can't go back, cause they're not there any more
In my mind I hear their ghosts calling, but I can't let them through
I've got those western Carolina Smoky Mountain blues
[Guitar Solo]
I'd give everything I own to be there once again
Rocking on that front porch watching the summer rain
Looking out across those fields at the mountain side
I wish I could go home just one more time
I think about my friends and family, but one thing is sure
I just can't go back, cause they're not there any more
In my mind I hear their ghosts calling, but I can't let them through
I've got those western Carolina Smoky Mountain blues