Well I grew up
wild and free
Walking these fields
in my bare feet
There wasn't no
place I couldn't go
With a
twenty-two rifle
and a fishing hook
Well I live in the city
but don't fit in
You know it's a
pity the shape I'm in
But I got no home
an' I got no choice
Oh Lord have mercy
on a country.. boy
When I was young
I remember well
I'd hunt the wild
turkey and the
buck-eyed quail
The river was clear
And people back then
had fishing lines
tied to the willow tree
Well I live in the city
but don't fit in
You know it's a
pity the shape I'm in
But I got no home
an' I got no choice
Oh Lord have mercy
on a country.. boy
Well they
damned the river
And they damned
the stream
They cut down
the cypress and the
sweet gum tree
There's a laundromat
and a barber shop
And now the whole
meadow is a
parking lot
Well I live in the city
but don't fit in
You know it's a
pity the shape I'm in
But I got no home
an' I got no choice
Oh Lord have mercy
on a country.. boy