| A heartsong melody plays like a symphony
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| The sweetest music I have ever known
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| A song of joy and pain
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| The mountain angels sing
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| A bittersweet refrain of my Smoky Mountain home, heartsong
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| Farmer’s daughter if you will
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| And I often wonder still
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| In memories where I rambled as a child
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| Makes me cry and makes me laugh
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| My reflections on the past
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| And the family, friends, and faith that shaped my life
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| Ragged clothes and hand-me-downs
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| Just enough to go around
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| But the sweetest things in life are always free
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| Like the songs the birds would sing
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| And the sweet new grass of spring
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| And the sacred blossoms on the dogwood tree
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| Repeat And I recall the thrill and joy
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| Of a Smoky Mountain boy
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| I remember my first kiss and my first love
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| And the songs I’d song and write
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| And the dreams I’d clutch so tight
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| And the loved ones that gave me that extra shove
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| And in that little house 'a prayer
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| Where I spent many hour
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| Praisin' God and liftin' up His name
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| And asking Him to lead and to keep watch over me
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| As I headed up that rocky road to fame
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| And now this, Smoky Mountain girl has been all around the world
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| But it makes no difference just how far I roam
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| I still cling to that part that is so dear to my heart
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| My faith in God and memories of home
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| Repeat |