Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ol' Doc Brown, artist - Bill Anderson. Album song Country Music Heaven, in the genre Кантри
Date of issue: 08.02.1993
Record label: Curb
Song language: English
Ol' Doc Brown |
He was just and old country doctor in a small Georgia town |
Fame and fortune had passed him by but we never saw him frown |
As day by day in his kindly way he served us one and all |
Many a patient forgot to pay although Doc’s fees were small |
But ol' Doc Brown didn’t seem to mind in fact he didn’t even send out bills |
His only ambition it seemed was to find sure cures for aches and ills |
Why nearly half the folks in our home town |
And yes I’m one of them too were ushered in by ol' Doc Brown |
When we made our first debaut ah he needed his dimes |
And there were times he’d receive a fee |
But he would pass it on to some poor soul that he said needed it worse than he |
So when hard times hit our town and drained each meager purse |
The scanty income of Ol' Doc Brown just went from bad to worse |
He had to sell his furniture why he couldn’t even pay his office rent |
And so to an old dusty room over a liberty stable Ol' Doc Brown and his satchel |
went |
On the hitching post at the curb below to advertise his wares |
He nailed up a little sign that read «Doc Brown has moved up stairs» |
And there he kept on helping people get well and his heart was pure gold |
But anyone with eyes could see that Doc was getting old |
Then one day he didn’t even answer when they knocked upon his door |
Ol' Doc Brown was lying down but his life was no more |
They found him there in his old black suit but on his face was a smile of |
contentment |
But all the money they could find on him was a quarter and one ol' copper cent |
So they opened up his ledger and what they saw gave their hearts a pull |
Cause beside each debtor’s name Ol' Doc had written «Paid in full» |
Well it looked like the potter’s field for Doc and that caused us some alarm |
'Till some one remembered the family graveyard out on the Simmon’s farm |
Ol' Doc had brought six of their kids into this world and Simmons was a |
grateful cuss |
He said «Doc been like one of the family so he can sleep with us.» |
Ol' Doc Brown should have had a funeral fine enough for a king |
It’s a ghastly joke that our town was broke and no one could give a thing |
Except Jones the undertaker he did mighty well |
He donated an old iron casket he’d never been able to sell |
And the funeral procession well it wasn’t much for grace and pomp and style |
But those wagonloads of mourners they stretched out for more than a mile |
And we breathed a prayer as we laid him there to rest beneath the sod |
This man who had earned the right to be on speaking terms with God |
His grave was covered with flowers but not from the floral shop |
Just roses and things from folks gardens and one or two dandelion tops |
For times had hit our town hard and each man carried a load |
So some just picked the wild flowers as they passed along the way |
We wanted to give Doc a monument we kind of figured we owed him one |
Cause he had made our town a better place for all the good he had done |
But monuments cost money so we just did the best we could |
And on his grave we just placed a monument of wood |
We pulled up that old hitching post where Doc had nailed his sign |
We painted it white and to all of us it surely did look fine |
Now the rains and snow has washed away our white trimmings of paint |
And there ain’t nothing left but Doc’s old sign and even that’s getting faint |
And still when southern breezes and twinkling stars cross our little town |
And pail moonlight shines through Georgia pines on the grave of Ol' Doc Brown |
You can still see that old hitching post as if in answer to our prayers |
Proudly telling the whole wide world Doc Brown has moved up stairs |