Poor valley girl

She could never give up the
Homestead on the farm
Where they handed off tobacco in
The big tobacco barn
And the long straight rows that ran
From the house down to the road
That runs to AP Carter's store on
The logging truck she rode
She would sit and gaze at
The foggy mountain top
As the swift hawk circled round
The Clinch Mountain rocks
At the school down in Hiltons she
Would read about the world
Created to be conquered by
This Poor Valley girl
Her mother was an Addington
From over copper creek
Her father was of solid stock
She was royal but meek
Her laughter was infectious
Her music was pure joy
She'd win the hearts of man men
As she did many a boy
Her mother became famous
Maybelle and her guitar
With sisters Helen and Anita
The family was four star
June gave the world two daughters
And a son with auburn curls
And I thank God that he gave me
This sweet Poor Valley girl