| He spent his life like a dollar |
| He lived it fast and lived it free |
| And he took his time until he found one |
| Farther than all our eyes could see |
| Maybe someday, |
| Maybe somewhere I’ll see you |
| In the blue Kentucky hills |
| Or maybe California |
| He never worked for too long |
| He was just best to believe |
| In a stolen line from an old song |
| Maybe saving some lost melody |
| Maybe someday, |
| Maybe somewhere I’ll see you |
| Living in those Georgia pines |
| Or maybe Sedona |
| So may these pages bring your words to life |
| May it all begin on some quiet night |
| Don’t forget the old times my friend |
| 'Cause you know they were good times |
| He never knew where the end was |
| Or even if he’d live to see |
| Or hear again from another |
| Who didn’t treat him like some memory |
| Maybe someday, |
| Maybe somewhere I’ll see you |
| In the blue Kentucky hills |
| Or maybe California |
| Hey, hey, hey, |
| Maybe someday, |
| Maybe somewhere I’ll see you |
| Living in those Georgia pines |
| Singing an old song |