Now come friends I want to tell you
Of a little country home
It is made of poplar logs upon a hill
There's where father died and left us
When we all were very young
And our mother kept us settled on the hill
When our days work on the farm was done
She would gather us around
She would have us get down on our little knees
Through the night until next day
In that little old poplar loghouse on the hill
Our father died a good man
Which we all would like to do
And I'm going there to see him some old day
When I get thruough with my singing
Lay my guitar by my side
Lord I want to play in Heaven when I die
* Refrain