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...