Lord Have Mercy on a Country Boy

Well I grew up, wild and free

Walkin' these fields in my bare feet

There wasn't no place, I couldn't go

With a twenty-two rifle and a fishing pole

Well I live in the city, but don't fit in

You know it's a pity, the shape I'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

I'd hunt the wild turkey and the bob-white quail

The river was clear, and deep back then

And fishin' lines tied to the willow limb

Well I live in the city but don't fit in

You know it's a pity the shape I'm in

Well I got no home and I got no choice

Oh Lord, have mercy on a country boy

Well they dammed the river, they dammed the stream

They cut down the cypress and the sweet gum trees

There's a laundra' mat, and a barber shop

And now the whole meadow is a parkin' lot

Well I live in the city but don't fit in

You know it's a pity the shape I'm in

Well I got no home and I got no choice

Oh Lord have mercy on a country boy...