Well, I grew up wild and free
Walking 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 I 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

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 fishing lines tied to the willow limb

Well, I live in the city but I 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

Well,  they dammed the river, they dammed the stream
They cut down the cypress and the sweet gum trees
There's a laundry man and a barber shop
And now the whole damn place is a parking lot

Well, I live in the city but I 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
Oh Lord, have mercy on a country boy