I will never forget this holler,
and this holler will never forget me.
We belonged to one another when I was smaller.

My daddy wore a blue collar
while I wandered around, climbing trees.
I will never forget this holler

that shaped me with the adventures
of a barefoot child running free.
We belonged to one another when I was smaller,

that neighborhood on Amos Baker,
where curves and hills helped shape me.
I will never forget this holler

where I learned humility from the Appalachian Bellflower,
to dance with lightning bugs, and live simply. 
We belonged to one another when I was smaller.

Though some think it nothing but squalor, 
these Kentucky mountains, this valley.
I will never forget this holler,
We belonged to one another when I was smaller.