Stone House on Blueberry Hill Well the wire was strung higher than anyone there could have known And the kinder the reminder the less chance they�d make it back home There was smoke, there was fog, there were blueberries wild on the hill There was silence, there was hummin Pacin and drums without will There�s a signal in the campfire and nobody knows what it means There�s a young man who looks old and tired With eyes that won�t say anything There�s a soldier, there�s a farmer A stone house burned black from within There are friendships that have parted And brothers who are missing their kin There�s a buckle made of silver A leather purse empty of coins And a bottle to deliver some freedom wherever you�re going I was there I was watching >From an island of trees they were ash I was empty, I was lonesome I had questions and no one to ask There�s a blue ridge in the Blue Ridge And a history of wanderers there If you�re lost in those mountains Remember to look for me there