Where the Whippoorwill Is Whispering Goodnight Loudon Wainwright III

When the sun sets far away beyond the mountains
And the silvery moon is peeping through the trees
Shadows gently gather round the old plantation
While the bells are chiming softly on the breeze
Then in dreams I wandered back to home and mother
Where daisies turns the meadow green to white
And the mockingbirds will greet me in the morning
And at eve the whippoorwill bids me goodnight