(James Lunsford)

I'm a western North Carolinean
Made of stone and red place oil
I got Cherokee blood deep within me
When I was born it began to boil.

Well, I left my home across the mountains
To see what kind of life I'd find
Well, I searched the world in all directions
To try to cool this restless mind.

--- Instrumental ---

Found myself on a lonesome journey
The streets of gold I tried to find
The indian spirit it softly whispered
And cooled the blood ever restless mind.

I'm going back to the Smokey Mountains
And breathe the air that fit my soul
Now there we read in the leaves of history
And there I'll find my streets of gold.

And there I'll find my streets of gold...