From the recording America, this is Appalachia Callin'
The song is about finding spiritual peace and moral clarity in the Appalachian mountains and West Virginia backroads, where the land and the backwoods still call to the soul. From the elevated, clear-eyed perspective of a watchman on the ridge, the singer counts his blessings while observing the difference between a steady moral compass and the spinning values of city and corporate life. It carries a quiet warning about corporate overreach and its pull on the next generation, turning young eyes away from the land and toward glowing distractions. The message is one of quiet defiance: real people still stand firm, refuse to sell their souls, and choose to protect what matters without raising their voice. Freedom and spiritual peace still breathe in these hills, and the songwriter’s resolve is to hold that line for the children.
Lyrics
Running the trails in a side-by-side roar
West Virginia wind blowing yesterday over
Appalachian living ain't easy, but it's real
From this watchman's view, the picture stands clear
This is still America the way it was meant to be
I'm counting my blessings on these backroads
Where the whispers of the backwoods still call my soul
My compass holds steady, it don't twist or sway
While city lights flicker and the truth slips away
You can see the struggle in the eyes of good folk
Who never sold their souls to the black hole of corporatism
Still the home of the brave
Still the land of the free
Kids splash in the creek where their granddaddies swam
Mamas still cook with the same old iron pan
But corporate hands keep reaching for the next generation
Turning young eyes from the land to a glowing distraction
Still they're raised beneath the red, white, and blue
I'm counting my blessings on these backroads
Where the whispers of the backwoods still call my soul
My compass holds steady, it don't twist or sway
While city lights flicker and the truth slips away
You can see the struggle in the eyes of good folk
Who never sold their souls to the black hole of corporatism
Still the home of the brave
Still the land of the free
They can buy the mountains and sell the view
But they can't buy the peace that settles deep and true
Freedom's still breathing through these hills and these veins
We won't hand our children over without a quiet fight
I'm counting my blessings on these backroads
Where the whispers of the backwoods still call my soul
My compass holds steady, it don't twist or sway
Real Americans still standing, souls not for sale
Still the home of the brave
Still the land of the free
West Virginia wind... carry us home
Souls not for sale... hearts made of stone? No... flesh and bone
Still standing free.