Walk these hills where my father walked before
Red dirt running deep in these veins
Every stone, every stream holds a story
Of a love that outlives the pain
This father’s land, it calls me home
Through the pines where the wild wind blows
I am bound to the ground of my fathers
Where the river of mercy still flows
Carry me down to the water
Let me stand where the oak trees grow old
In this father’s land I am gathered
In the arms of the brave and the bold