I came across the hills and there I saw that old oak tree,
Where I had kissed and I had left sweet brown-eyed Marilee.
I listened and I heard his greenly whispers of then love:
Welcome stranger, welcome at home.
I strolled along the shady ways like I did long ago.
The violets were blooming and some people said hello.
And there my papa came, his good old hands still full of load.
Welcome stranger, welcome at home.
Yes, what I was seeing was wonderful. I looked around me and I saw the old house, it was in cracked paint. And all those smoky mountains surrounding me in total.
And I felt life being home. And then suddenly, I knew that I was just daydreaming.
Strange faces, strange houses around me and nobody saying to me:
Welcome stranger, welcome at home.
But there will come a day, the luckiest day in life for me.
When I shall cross the hills and meet sweet brown-eyed Marilee.
When mama bakes a cake and all those smoky mountains glow:
Welcome stranger, welcome at home,
Welcome stranger, welcome at home.