| Mountain boy
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| Pickin' up rocks a puttin' 'em in the wagon
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| The sun goes down my poor feet a draggin'
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| Mountain boy.
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| Now I wish
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| I own ten acres down in the valley instead of these rocks on this hill
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| 'Cause they grow some tall corn down in the valley
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| And my land seems just won’t till.
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| You know my mountain girl went down in the valley
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| I guess about a year ago
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| And married a valley farmer
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| «Cause he had a lotta hail.
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| And in a way I guess it’s better
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| I didn’t have anything but love to offer
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| No, I don’t guess I can blame her
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| 'Cause life in the valley is a whole lot softer.
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| But for a while I thought this pain in my heart
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| Was gonna get the best of me
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| But I just kinda go away now
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| And I just worry about the rest of me.
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| And I’ll bet there’s a lotta men just like me
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| That on mountain ground where the winter wind’s cold
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| And spendin' their entire life looking down
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| Just two miles from something they’ll never hold.
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| A pickin' up rocks a puttin' 'em in the wagon
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| The sun goes down my poor feet a draggin'
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| Mountain boy… |