HOW OLD WAS I
WHEN I FIRST SEEN
OLD RIVERS
I CAN'T REMEMBER
WHEN HE
WEREN'T AROUND
WELL THAT OLD FELLER
DID A HEAP OF WORK
SPENT HIS WHOLE LIFE
WALKING PLOWED
GROUND
HE HAD
A ONE ROOM SHACK
NOT FAR FROM US AND
WELL WE WAS ABOUT
AS POOR AS HIM
HE HAD ONE OLD MULE
HE CALLED
MIDNIGHT
AND I TRAILED ALONG
AFTER THEM
HE USED TO PLOW
THEM ROWS
STRAIGHT AND DEEP
AND I'D COME ALONG
THERE BEHIND
'A BUSTIN' UP CLODS
WITH MY OWN BARE FEET
OLD RIVERS
WAS A FRIEND OF MINE
THE SUN
WOULD GET HIGH AND
THAT MULE
WOULD WORK
AND OLD RIVERS'D
FINALLY SAY WOAH
HE'D WIPE HIS BROW
AND LEAN BACK
IN THE REINS AND
TALK ABOUT
A PLACE HE'S GONNA GO
HE'D SAY
ONE OF THESE DAYS
I'M GONNA CLIMB
THAT MOUNTAIN
WALK UP THERE
AMONG THEM CLOUDS
WHERE THE COTTON'S
HIGH
AND THE CORN'S
'A GROWIN'
AND THERE AIN'T NO
FIELDS TO PLOW
4 BAR
BREAK
I GOT A LETTER TODAY
FROM THE FOLKS
BACK HOME AND
THEY'RE ALL FINE
CROPS IS DRY
DOWN NEAR THE END
MOM SAID SON
YOU KNOW'D
OLD RIVERS DIED
I'M SITTING HERE NOW
IN THIS
NEW PLOWED EARTH
TRYIN' TO FIND ME
A LITTLE SHADE
WITH THE SUN
BEATING DOWN
'CROSS THE FIELD I SEE
THAT MULE
OLD RIVERS AND ME
NOW ONE
OF THESE DAYS
I'M GONNA CLIMB
THAT MOUNTAIN
WALK UP THERE
AMONG THEM CLOUDS
WHERE THE COTTON'S
HIGH
AND THE CORN'S
'A GROWIN'
AND THERE AIN'T NO
FIELDS TO PLOW
WITH THE SUN
BEATIN' DOWN
ACROSS THE FIELDS I SEE
THAT MULE
OLD RIVERS AND ME