Brian Smalley "Cherokee Shuffle"

A few years back, we were in Mountain City, Tennessee and I was playing this tune, "Cherokee Shuffle,” while sitting on the banks of the creek at Corn Creek Camp & Cabins. Boy, did it sound good.
Not really, I was just learning it at the time, and in fact I’m sure it sounded ‘meh;’ but the creek was babbling and the birds were chirping and you could smell the jasmine and other unidentifiable aromas of the mountain, and it didn’t matter, I could have been picking on a cast iron radiator and it would’ve sounded just as sweet. The mountains make their own music. Fiddle tunes are just humanity’s attempt at accompaniment. So, when I get that mountain-jones, I pick up the git-box and pick a tune like this one, and how did they used to say it? if Muhammad can’t go to the mountain, then the mountain must come to Muhammad.
Come hither, mountain, and sing me a song. My heart hurts, and I am in need of your good medicine.
Thank you for listening. Now, off to the mountain top with you. Up to the top, where you belong.