Littlefield

I was born in '37, a sharecropper's son

Out on the great south plains

There in the suburbs of a dryland cotton patch

In the middle of a west Texas rain

And for all of you folks out there in radioland

who don't know what a West Texas rain is,

Well that's what's commonly known as a sandstorm

Remember that, you'll need it later

I guess times were hard but livin' was easy

We always found a way to survive

Fried chicken and gravy and an old tune off the guitar

Was enough to keep a country boy alive

And on Saturday afternoons it was Lester Pruitt's "The Picture Show"

On Saturday's nights is the Grand Ol' Uproar from Nashville Tennessee, take it away boys

Lookin' back now and thinkin' it over

Life was like an old country song

My mama taught me the melody and daddy taught me the chords

I made the words up on my own

And sometimes it didn't rhyme, but they always had a reason,

Even if it was unbeknownst to no one but myself

I guess all that west Texas sand in my crawl, that's what make me so mean

I'd bet I was the only boy ever expelled from Sunday school

Lover, fighter, wild-horse rider, and purty dern good windmill maker

Look out world, here I come