My Private Wobegon

stories from home

From a farmer's prayer for a steady rain to a miner's dreams of sky
From a widow's wish to hold hands again to a hungry baby's cry
From a poor boy's dirt to his mama's hurt, how it brings me to my knees
A distant call carries through it all on this Appalachian breeze
From the rumbling to white lightning
As Spring stirs the buds and bees
A distant call carries through it all
On this Appalachian breeze

From a brimstone preacher's damning fist to a sinner's fallen child
From gardens weeds just can't resist to the sweet laurel growing wild
From starry nights to dawn's fog lights, there's redemption no one sees
Feel the flex and flow of a fiddler's bow on this Appalachian breeze
From the valleys to the highlands
As it flings the summer trees
Feel the flex and flow of a fiddler's bow
On this Appalachian breeze

From an Amish buggy's steadfast crawl to a coal train tracking dust
From a flatbed stacked with hay to haul to a John Deere's ruts and rust
From backwoods walks to front porch talks, just to put my mind at ease
A still small voice makes my heart rejoice on this Appalachian breeze
From family quilts to flannel
As fall spreads its beds of leaves
A still small voice makes my heart rejoice
On this Appalachian breeze

From an empty church with a full graveyard to a bankrupt five and dime
From peeling paint on Mail Pouch barns to pumps that pass their prime
From a worn out creek to a lover's leap, everywhere God wills to please
Blue ridges rise singing lullabies on this Appalachian breeze
From the snow drifts to the frostbite
As it swirls the wintry freeze
Blue ridges rise singing lullabies
On this Appalachian breeze
From each planting to each harvest
As I'm blessed, so I believe
From high above heaven sends its love
On this Appalachian breeze...