dream, dream, deep in rolling mountains - 
little horse, a porch swing, momma down the street 
drip that honey on the camera, 
lay out on an old quilt, pretty like a queen 

oh I know a baby should be born in blood, 
outside in the pumpkins and the roots.
oh I know we ain't been off the land that long, 
but you can't step into those photos in your room 
and you can't sleep under no Appalachian moon 

cry, cry, sigh for old Virginia, 
sing out all the work songs gathered up in schools 
don't try - lover, there's no answer, 
unless, in the mansion, we were raised as fools 

I don't know the panic of the flood plane here,
deep inside my corduroy and jeans 
would that we could put back on our real boots now 
but you can't fill anyone's bottle on a loom 
and you can't sleep under no Appalachian moon