(Bob McDill)
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.
Chorus:
Well, I live in the city but don’t fit in
You know its 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.
--- Instrumental ---
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.
Chorus:
Well, I live in the city but don’t fit in
You know its 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.
--- Instrumental ---
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.
Chorus:
Well, I live in the city but don’t fit in
You know its 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...
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