there s a little shack tucked back in the timber it wasn t much back then but it was home sometimes it hurts me to remember just how long i ve been gone oh how i miss the smell of mama s kitchen and the way she used to sing those gospel songs right now i wish that me and dad were fishin so i could tell him he was right and i was wrong big city nights and lights surround me feels like a prison to my soul i can hear a whippoorwill calling me home back where i belong now all the rockin chairs are empty i hate to think how tall the weeds have grown i d give back everything the good lord gave me if i could just go back to where i belong big city nights and lights surround me feels like a prison to my soul i can hear a whippoorwill calling me home back where i belong back where i belong