There's a well-beaten path on an old mountainside,
Where I wandered when I was a lad,
Where I wandered alone from the place I call home
In those Blue Ridge hills far away.

Oh, I love those hills of old Virginia
From those Blue Ridge hills I did roam;
When I die, won't you bury me in the mountains,
Far away in my Blue Ridge Mountain home.

Now my thoughts wander back to that ramshackle shack
In those Blue Ridge hills far away.
My mother and dad were laid there to rest;
They are sleeping in peace together there.

I return to that old cabin home with a sigh;
I've been longing for days gone by.
When I die won't you bury me on that old mountainside
Make my resting place upon a hill so high.