Western Kentucky Valley by Chuck Roehm

Twilight time on my front porch, rocking in that old wood swing,
Voices sound soft as they talk of the day and what tomorrow will bring.
The shadow of the mountain makes its way up my stairs,
Like an old friend that’s come to visit me there.
And the only thing crowded in this valley at night,
Are the stars that glow in the blue black sky.
Western Kentucky I remember so well, everything moves kind of slow.
Red clay road by that little valley farm I knew long ago.

Tobacco shining green in the late day sun, sweet corn is filling out.
Thunderheads growing in the Western sky, heat lightning crackles out.
The freshly turned earth with its old rich smell,
The sweet clear water of that cold deep well.
Whippoorwill’s calling down the sun at night,
There’s a peace on the valley as the day takes flight.
Western Kentucky I remember so well, everything moves kind of slow.
Red clay road by that little valley farm I knew long ago.

Western Kentucky I remember so well, everything moves kind of slow.
Red clay road by that little valley farm I knew long ago.
And the only thing crowded in this valley at night,
Are the stars that glow in the blue-black sky.
And the only thing crowded in this valley at night,
Are the stars that glow in the blue-black sky.