| Well I had me an old red harvester
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| She cranked up every time
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| But she’d hoe with her silver spade
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| And turn upon a dime
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| And even though the moment, it slipped away
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| Even though the farm was just pissed away
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| There’s one more song I’d like to play
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| Knowing it all
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| It’s just the sort of simple thing
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| It goes, «Baby, be mine, baby, be mine, baby, be mine
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| All mine, come on, baby, be mine»
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| Where I used to hear the Norfolk southern whistle
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| Blow every night before I went to sleep
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| And I’d settle down with
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| And my soul I would pray would keep
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| But that high whistle has faded away
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| It was a late night reminder of a dying day
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| Just one more time I wanna hear it blow
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| Hey, listen, can you hit rewind?
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| It’s a little simple thing
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| It goes, «Baby, be mine, baby, be mine, baby, be mine
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| All mine, come on, baby, be mine»
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| And my daddy got to where he couldn’t play his guitar
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| So he handed it down to me
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| And he learned me a few old gospel songs
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| And the murder ballad
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| And even though his life just whittled away
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| The present’s a gift is what my daddy used to say, I
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| Can still him whispering from miles away
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| filters through the pines
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| Hey, it’s just a little simple things
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| It goes, «Baby, be mine, baby, be mine, baby, be mine
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| Yeah, baby, be mine, baby, be mine, baby, be mine
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| All mine, come on, baby, be mine
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| Come on, baby, be mine»
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| Baby, be mine |