Country Boy (Felice Bryant and Boudleaux Bryant) Now I'm just a simple guy But there's one thing sure as shootin' I hate those folks that think That they're so dad burned high-falutin' I'd be the same in Hollywood Or right in my own kitchen I beieve in fussin' when you're mad And scratchin' when you're itchin'. cho: I'm a plain old country boy A cornbread lovin' country boy I raise cain on Saturday But I go to church on Sunday I'm a plain old country boy A 'tater eatin' country boy I'll be lookin' over that old grey mule When the sun comes up on Monday. Where I come from, opportunities They never were too good We never had much money But we done the best we could Ma doctored me from youngun' hood With Epson Salts and Iodine Made my diapers out of old feed sacks My 'spenders out of plowline. Every time the preacher called Ma always fixed a chicken If I reached for a drumstick I was sure to get a lickin' She alway saved two parts for me But I had to shut my mouth T'was the gizzard and the north end Of a chicken flyin' south. Recorded by Little Jimmy Dickens GG apr97
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!