Walkin round the old homeplace Guess some things are bound to change
And I don’t wanna look inside There’s nothin there for me
But through those pines beyond the barn The path still waits to lead me on
Rising up to where I need to be
* These hills, they talk Reminding me what I already know
These hills, they talk And I believe they’re telling me
The dreamer I was born to be Will always have a place she can roam
In these hills
I would come here to hide away Make big plans and big mistakes
Sing out loud, talk to God And to the restless wind
But now it seems I’ve lost myself In trying to be someone else
So, I’ve come back to listen once again
Ooh ooh ooh ooh These. . . hills
