Smoke in the air

Smoke in the air, coal in my lungs

Cool mountain breeze still singing her song

West, oh by God, she calls me still

We run them hills till we hit the route nine

Till the world brings us down, or no debts in the ground

Whispers they are too loud

Oh Lord, when I die, bury me beside

Them Blue Ridge pines

And up in them hills, there's a place for us still

And with you I forever burn. . .