back in the days of my childhood
in the evening when everything was still
i used to sit and listen to the foxhounds
with my dad in the old kentucky hills
i’m on my way back to the old home
the road winds on up the hill
but there’s no light in the window
that shined long ago where i live
soon my childhood days were over
i had to leave my old home
for dad and mother were called to heaven
i’s left in this world all alone
i’m on my way back to the old home
the road winds on up the hill
but there’s no light in the window
that shined long ago where i live
high in the hills of old kentucky
stands the fondest spot in my memory
i’m on my way back to the old home
the light in the window i long to see
A LITTLE SOMETHIN' 
Love this!
Those trips back home can be so sad. We took a tour of the old places some time back. My grandparent's (dad's parents) house is gone–just a bare field. And my mom's childhood home was torn down for a funeral home parking lot. We did find the first house I lived in, though.And life goes on.