Tom Johnston

Sittin by myself in the summertimewhen the heat is burnin down
Watchin the golden crops in the field just growin without a sound
I was a boy raised in the country and it s still a part of me
And you see no matter where I go it s a beautiful memory
Rise with sun at the break of daylookin out my window
It s the same as yesterday

Sittin under an old oak treepickin my guitar in the shade
That old tree spreadin over my head is the closest friend I made

Just me and some lonely wooden musicfloatin through air
The grass is rustlin and the birds are singin and my heart don t have a care
Still another day finds me in the fieldssweat is soakin up my ragged clothes
But I d rather work than steal

Watchin the sun settle down over open Texas landlooking at the cattle and the horses runnin wild as they can
Life was different in the old daysyou just get a day s work done
When you were finished workin in the fieldsthere was chores at home to be done

I was always hearin musicalways wanna play me some
As a full-time friend or the way to ease the end of a woman that swayed me some
Hearin those tunes always had a way of soothin out my soul
When times got hard and work got slow it was music that kept me whole
Sun beatin down through the treesgets so hot bring a workin man to his knees
Part of my heartpart of my soulpart of a melody
Hands are clappin and people swayin in simple harmony
Life was different in the old daysyou just get a day s work done
When you finished workin in the fields there was chores at home to be done

Late in the evenin on the front porch when the sun is settin in the west
Me and the boys pass around the bottle and sing what we like best
Sing about our wivessing about our childrensingin out the Delta blues
We re simple folks and we like it that waygot nothin left to lose

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