Southern Pines

Mama won't your carry me
Oh won't you bury me
In the red dirt when I die
When I die
At the foot of the blue ridge, where the white dove lives
They can all say I came home one last time.
To sing with the angels beneath southern pines

The view of the pasture is an old faded picture
Pickin on banjos and plucking dandelions
blew out the seeds, watch em float on the breeze
I can hardly remember you waving goodbye

Well they blew out the mountain
To build a new highway
That led to a factory, in the new part of town
Who would I be, if I decided to stay there
And live out my days on some foreign ground

Mama won't your carry me
Oh won't you bury me
In the red dirt when I die
When I die
At the foot of the blue ridge, where the white dove lives
They can all say I came home one last time.
To sing with the angels beneath southern pines

It was pouring down rain in the The old iron city
On through to Jackson , I was drench to the bone
When I made it to frisco, had nobody left with me
The real journey starts with your first night alone

Back in the pasture, there’s a hundred new houses
Filled up with strangers, who got there last year
They’ve got good intentions, to better their families,
but it’s their city now, and I’m stuck out here.

Mama won't your carry me
Oh won't you bury me
In the red dirt when I die
When I die
At the foot of the blue ridge, where the white dove lives
They can all say I came home one last time.
To sing with the angels beneath southern pines