| When I was a little barefooted boy
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| Back in the hills of eastern Kentucky
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| I was lazy and about half crazy
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| Catfish didn’t bite in the daytime
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| And little boys weren’t allowed out after dark
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| But we had a few thrills and one of them was the grocery truck
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| Well the grocery truck was a little ole truck
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| With the name painted on the door
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| In the winter time it always got stuck
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| Bringin' beans and greens to the poor
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| We’d go get the mules and we’d pull it out
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| And the neighbors would come to the show
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| We’d cuss them mules and holler
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| And shout cause the treasure on board was gold
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| And the grocery truck is a comin'
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| It’s about a half a mile away
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| Just when we were down on our luck
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| Here comes the grocery truck
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| Now the grocery truck with the store
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| Bought stuff bologney and crackers and cheese
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| Sometimes a new pair of pants with cuffs or candy to fill our needs
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| If I counted the thrills of my life today
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| As I cater to fancy and whim
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| None would compare to the grocery truck
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| It was Christmas ev’ry Friday back then
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| Well the grocery truck was a sign of success
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| We were economical giants
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| My mother would laugh sometimes till she cried
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| Cause daddy was high on a pint
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| Oh the grocery truck never comes anymore
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| As it did in the way back when
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| Its supermarkets and one stop stores and hamburger shops again
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| Daddy’d just say charge it to me
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| Whoa charge it to me |