There was one lone Georgia pine, to the Kentucky sky it rose
Where redbud and dogwood paint the hills, where mountain laurel grows.
You can search the world around, but I know you'll never find.
A more fitting tribute to a man, than that one lone Georgia pine.

He was only seventeen years old, as he stood by the kitchen door.
He kissed his mama one last time, and headed off to war.
She knew that it was coming, but she said not a word.
"Just tell my Daddy when I'm gone" was the last thing that she heard.
Heaven help my baby boy,
He's my youngest one, my pride and joy.
Lord, let him walk these hills again.
Then she got a bucket from the well,
Put a chair in the shade, to sit a spell,
And watched him disappear with the summer wind.

Well, he fell in with Rosencranz and some Illinois boys,
He learned to fight on the battlefield, midst the guns and blood and noise.
He got nicked at Chattanooga, but he got fixed in time.
To join up with his company when they crossed the Georgia line.
There on a September day
Thirty-five thousand laid away.
Chicamauga Creek was a flowing hell
Then he got hit from his blind side
And he laid himself down and died.
And they buried him right there just where he fell.

Well, the summers they came and went and the battles fade away.
And the horrors of that angry war seemed but a dying day.
Two young men in a wagon rode to the bridge where their brother died
To bring him back to Kentucky soil and to rest on the mountain side.
Oh, but when they brought him down
There was a tiny seed to his coffin bound
Put there by God’s hand, so they say.
And from his grave grew a mighty tree
And all for miles around can see
It standin’ proud and tall to this very day.

There's that one lone Georgia pine, to the Kentucky sky it rose
Where redbud and dogwood paint the hills, where mountain laurel grows.
You can search the world around, but I know you'll never find.
A more fitting tribute to a man, than that one lone Georgia pine.