Lord Have Mercy on a Country Boy

(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...