| The wildwood flower grew wild on the farm,
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| And we never knowed what it was called.
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| Some said it was a flower and some said it was weed,
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| I never gave it much thought …
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| One day I was out there talking to my brother,
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| Reached down for a weed to chew on,
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| Things got fuzzy and things got blurry,
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| And then everything was gone!
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| Didn’t know what happened,
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| But I knew it beat the hell out of sniffin’burlap.
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| I come to and my brother was there,
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| And he said, What’s wrong with your eyes?
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| I said, I don’t know, I was chewing on a weed.
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| He said, Let me give it a try.
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| We spent the rest of that day and most of that night,
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| Trying to find my brother, Bill.
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| Caught up with him, 'bout six o’clock the next morning,
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| Naked, swinging on the wind mill!
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| He said he flew up there.
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| I had to fly up there and bring him down,
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| He was about half crazy …
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| The very next day we picked a bunch of them weeds,
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| And put 'em in the sun to dry.
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| Then we mashed 'em up and chopped 'em up,
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| And put 'em in the corncob pipe.
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| Smokin’that wildwood flower got to be a habit,
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| We didn’t see no harm.
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| We thought it was kind of handy,
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| Take a trip and never leave the farm!
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| All good things gotta come to an end,
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| And it’s the same with the wildwood weed.
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| One day this feller from Washington came by,
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| And he spied it and turned white as a sheet.
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| Then they dug and they burned,
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| And they burned and they dug,
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| And they killed all our cute little weeds.
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| Then they drove away,
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| We just smiled and waved …
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| Sittin’there on that sack of seeds!
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| Y’all come back now, hear? |