from a shack by a mountain stream to a room in new orleans so far from my blue ridge mountain home the men i meet was not warm and friendly like the one in old virginie oh they are not real like my blue ridge mountain boy i was just a little past eighteen when i came to new orleans i d never been beyond my home state line there was a boy who loved me dearly but i broke his heart severely when i left my blue ridge mountain boy life was dull in my hometown lights were out when the sun went down and i thought that city life was more my style but nights get lonely away from home and it s easy to go wrong the men are not kind like my blue ridge mountain boy new orleans held things in store things i d never bargained for and every night a different man knocks on my door but late at night when all is still i can hear a whippoorwill as i cry for my blue ridge mountain boy oh but i can never go back home since the boy i love is gone he grew tired of waiting for me to return they say he married last october but i never will get over oh the sweet love of my blue ridge mountain boy blue ridge mountain boy