Poor Valley Girl

She could never give up the homestead on the farm
Where they handed off tobacco in the big tobacco barn
And the long straight rows that ran
From the house down to the road
That runs to AP Carter's store on the logging truck she rode

She would sit and gaze at the foggy mountain top
As the swift hawk circled round the Clinch Mountain rocks
At the school down in Hiltons she would read about the world
Created to be conquered by this Poor Valley girl

Her mother was an Addington from over copper creek
Her father was of solid stock; she was royal but meek
Her laughter was infectious, her music was pure joy
She'd win the hearts of man men as she did many a boy

Her mother became famous, Maybelle and her guitar
With sisters Helen and Anita, the family was four star
June gave the world two daughters
And a son with auburn curls
And I thank God that he gave me
This sweet Poor Valley girl