| I am dreaming of the mountains of my home
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| Of the mountains where in childhood I would roam
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| I have dwelt 'neath southern skies
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| Where the summer never dies
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| But my heart is in the mountains of my home
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| I can see the little homestead on the hill
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| I can hear the magic music of the Rhyl
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| There is nothing to compare
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| With the love that once was there
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| In the lonely little homestead on the hill
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| I can see the quiet churchyard down below
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| Where the mountain breezes wander to and fro
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| And when God my soul will keep
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| It is there I want to sleep
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| With those dear old folks that loved me long ago |