|
Well I'm goin' down to the river |
|
I've got a canepole in my hand |
|
I've got my redworms in a Maxwell house coffee can |
|
I'm gonna sit under ashade tree on a riverbank where it's cool |
|
I'm gonna close my eyes and dream and let the cork Bob away my blues |
|
Well I wake up every mornin' I pick peaches all day |
|
And on Saturday night we'll have a dance or two we might waller in the hay |
|
Now the only thing that ever whipped my pa |
|
Was this bad dude called old age |
|
And his last years was his best years |
|
And this is what he had to say |
|
He said boy I've worked this dirt all my life but things ain't been good for awhile |
|
Why don't you move to the city make a little money you might be the first one in |
|
The family ever to die with a smile |
|
Well I took his advice things goin' well |
|
But my friends are far and few |
|
But whoever said a city boy can't have the country blues |
|
Whoever said a city boy can't have the country blues |
|
Whoever said a city boy can't have the country blues |
|
Well honey they ain't talked to me and you |