lord have mercy on a country boy

Don Williams

Well I grew up wild and free
Walkinââ?¬â?¢ these fields in my bare feet
There wasnââ?¬â?¢t no place I couldnââ?¬â?¢t go
With a twenty-two rifle and a fishing pole

CHORUS:
Well I live in the city but donââ?¬â?¢t fit in
You know its a pity the shape Iââ?¬â?¢m in
Well I got no home and I got no choice
Oh Lord, have mercy on a country boy

When I was young I remember well
Iââ?¬â?¢d hunt the wild turkey and the bob-white quail
The river was clear and deep back then
And fishinââ?¬â?¢ lines tied to the willow limb

Well they dammed the river, they dammed the stream
They cut down the cypress and the sweet gum trees
Thereââ?¬â?¢s a laundraââ?¬â?¢ mat and a barber shop
And now the whole meadow is a parkinââ?¬â?¢ lot