STOCKYARD HILL
Music and lyrics composed by Sam Gleaves, © February 2015. Fabulachian Music, ASCAP
From the stories told by my great aunt, Corrine “Sis” Allison Thompson.
In an old farmhouse, way back in the Cove,
I'd listen, she'd remember.
“They named me Corrine 'cause I was the oldest
But everybody called me Sister.”
“We raised what we ate and there's work to be done,
Where Daddy went, I'd follow.
Between the kitchen and the branch, the fields and the barn
I learned the most of what I know.”
Chorus:
“I'm proud of the way that I came up.”
Nothing comes closer than that love.
There’s a little bit left of what used to be
These memories won’t be leaving with me.
“Saturday night, Stockyard Hill,
Mama's people would all get together.
Generations just pickin' and singin'
Didn't know one note from the other.”
“Charlie would lay that banjo down
When he'd get happy with playin'.
He'd flatfoot all over that room,
Rattle the dishes in the kitchen.”
Chorus
“On Sunday morning, we were ready for church
Eighty years and I'm still going
Precious Memories and dinner on the ground
And the Lord was there, I know it.”
Now, I've seen trouble and times are hard
Still I'm traveling along.
“ I could have church in my own backyard
Get my sermon from a song.”
Chorus:
“I'm proud of the way that I came up.
Nothing comes closer than that love.
How I miss it, still to this day!
It comes right back every time you play.”
(Ends with traditional Appalachian tune, “Did You Ever See The Devil, Uncle Joe”)