In the shadows of the Smokies where the morning mist is deep, Thereβs a quiet in Sevierville today the mountains keep. A cabin built of hard work, where the floorboards used to creak, And a mother sang a lullaby to soothe a little cheek. They carved out shoes of cardboard, and they prayed for better days, While the Tennessee river sang its quiet, winding lays. And she held a wooden corncob doll and dreamed upon a star, Not knowing how her own sweet voice would echo fast and far. Oh, Dolly, the mountain laurel fades today, The diamond in the rhinestone finally slipped away. From the front porch in the holler to the grand old Opry stage, You wrote a life of courage on a bruised and golden page. Sleep well beneath the starlight, where the hills of home are green, Farewell, our Tennessee mountain queen. With a coat of many colors that her loving mama stitched, She possessed a wealth of spirit that no king had ever rich. She packed her guitar and her dreams and left the country town, To paint Nashville in sequins and to wear a painted crown. With a laugh just like a bell and wit as sharp as Georgia pine, She crossed the great divides of song and made our hearts align. From "Coat of Many Colors" to the working-class despair, She spoke for every lonely soul adrift upon the air. Oh, Dolly, the mountain laurel fades today, The diamond in the rhinestone finally slipped away. From the front porch in the holler to the grand old Opry stage, You wrote a life of courage on a bruised and golden page. Sleep well beneath the starlight, where the hills of home are green, Farewell, our Tennessee mountain queen. And every child who learned to read because you cared enough, Will carry on your gentle grace when life gets dark and rough. The library of books you sent to homes across the land, Was just an angelβs signature left written by your hand. You gave us wings to fly above the sorrow and the pain, And now the hills of Tennessee are weeping in the rain. The Jolene blues have quieted, the working day is done, Into the West you journey now, beyond the setting sun. No need for heavy wigs or heels upon the golden street, Just peace upon the mountain where the rivers softly meet. Carl is waiting at the gate, the angels make their room, To welcome back the brightest rose that ever dared to bloom. So rest your weary, golden heart... We loved you from the start. Goodbye, our Dolly... Sleep in peace.
