I was born under the blue skies of Kentucky, near the Nolin River flow,
Where the Thoroughbreds are racing, and the white face cattle grow.
I was raised on grits and taters, buttermilk and turnip greens,
Biscuits and red eye gravy, smoked pork and butter beans.
It was under Kentucky skies, that I was taught to be a man,
To do my best everyday, and lend folks a helping hand.
My Mamie taught me how to read, my brothers—how to fight.
A country girl on holding hands, and walks in the pale moonlight.
My Pappy taught me how to shoot, and how to rope and ride,
We sure had a lot of fun back then, under those blue Kentucky skies.
I like Kentucky mornins, honeysuckle spiking the breeze,
While the mockingbirds are singing, and dance in the sycamore trees.
I like Kentucky whiskey! I like my chicken fried!
I like to tend my cattle on the bluegrass country side!
Kentucky waters are the clearest, her grasses the greenest green,
And those bluegrass Kentucky women, are among the prettiest I’ve ever seen.
Kentucky horses are the finest, and you rarely see one buck.
By the way, did I ever tell you folks that I was born here in Kentuck.
It was under Kentucky skies that I met a pretty miss.
I courted her oh so tenderly, held her hand and stole a kiss.
I love that Kentucky woman, hazel eyes and auburn hair.
We still hold hands in the moonlight and breathe that sweet Kentucky air.
How could I have been so lucky? Guess it must have been my fate,
To be placed in old Kentucky, just next door to heaven’s gate.
May I die here with my boots on, while my mind is clear and sound,
Breathing the sweet air of Kentucky and walking on Kentucky ground.
Lay my body in a valley, beneath her peaceful sod,
That my soul may sore onto her lofty peaks , and touch the face of God....