I suppose you could fit this to bluegrass, but I just wanted to write it as a poem.

Old Gold And The Mountain Man

The mountain was my mama.
The river was my dad.
A yellow dog I called Old Gold,
The only friend I had.
I grew up in the back woods
With no family and no kin.
And when I’m done with city living
I will move back home again.
I’ll climb back up the mountain,
Across the river swim,
And look around to find Old Gold
Down by the river bend.
I left him by the river.
We parted at the glen,
Where I told him I must leave that place
A new life to begin..
I traveled to the city
To find me a school mar’m
Who could teach me how to cipher,
To read and write and learn.
And when I found my school mar’m
And learned what I could learn,
What I learned about the city
Just made me want to return.
If I didn’t have my mountain,
If Old Gold I didn’t know,
I tell you, I’d be out of luck.
I’d have no place to go.
So I swam across the river
To the mountain I call home.
And I found Old Gold was dying
Which is why I wrote this poem.
The saddest moments happen
Nearest the journey’s end.
But you can die a rich man
If you have one faithful friend.
So before you start a journey
Please take one good look behind.
Consider what you’re leaving
Before you start your climb.