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Lord Have Mercy on a Country Boy

Well, I grew up wild and free

Walkin' these fields in my barefeet

There wasn't no place I couldn't go

With a 22 rifle and a fishin' poleWell, 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 boyWhen I was young I remember well

I'd hunt the wild turkey and bobwhite quail

The river was clear and deep back then

Had fishin' lines tied to the willow limbWell, 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 boyWell, they damned the river, they damned the stream

They cut down the Cyprus and the Sweetgum trees

There's a laundromat and a barbershop

And now the whole meadow is a parking lotWell, 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 boyWell, 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

Oh, Lord, have mercy on a country boy

Songwriters

MCDILL, BOBPublished by

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