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Country Boy

Song Author Felice og Boudleaux Bryant Performer: Little Jimmy Dickens Submitted by: Anonymous

[C]Now I'm just a simple guy
But there's [F]one thing sure as [C]shooting
I [F]hate those folks that [C]think that they're
So [D7]doggone high [G7]fluting

I'd [C]be the same in Hollywood
Or [F]right in my own [C]kitchen
I [F]believe in fussing [C]when you're mad
And [G7]scratching when you're [C]itching


I'm a plain old country boy
A [F]corn-bread loving [C]country boy
[F]I raise cane on [C]Saturday
But I [D7]go to church on [G7]Sunday

I'm a [C]plain old country boy
A [F]corn-bread loving [C]country boy
I'll be l[F]ooking over that o[C]ld gray mule
When the [G7]sun comes up on [C]Monday


Where I come from opportunities
[F]They never were too [C]good
[F]We never had much [C]money
But we [D7]done the best we [G7]could

Ma [C]doctored me from youngin-hood
With [F]Epsom salts and [C]Iodine
Made my [F]diapers out of old [C]feed sacks
My '[G7]spenders out of plow [C]lines

I'm a plain old country boy
A [F]corn-bread loving [C]country boy
[F]I raise cane on [C]Saturday
But I [D7]go to church on [G7]Sunday

I'm a [C]plain old country boy
A [F]corn-bread loving [C]country boy
I'll be l[F]ooking over that o[C]ld gray mule
When the [G7]sun comes up on [C]Monday


Every time the preacher called
[F]Ma always fixed a [C]chicken
[F]If I'd reach for a [C]drumstick
I was [D7]sure to get a [G7]licking

She [C]always saved two parts for me
But [F]I had to shut my [C]mouth
T'was the [F]gizzard and the [C]north end
Of a [G7]chicken flying [C]south

I'm a plain old country boy
A [F]corn-bread loving [C]country boy
[F]I raise cane on [C]Saturday
But I [D7]go to church on [G7]Sunday

I'm a [C]plain old country boy
A [F]corn-bread loving [C]country boy
I'll be l[F]ooking over that o[C]ld gray mule
When the [G7]sun comes up on [C]Monday



Now I'm just a simple guy
But there's one thing sure as shooting
I hate those folks that think that they're
So doggone high fluting

I'd be the same in Hollywood
Or right in my own kitchen
I believe in fussing when you're mad
And scratching when you're itching

I'm a plain old country boy
A corn-bread loving country boy
I raise cane on Saturday
But I go to church on Sunday

I'm a plain old country boy
A corn-bread loving country boy
I'll be looking over that old gray mule
When the sun comes up on Monday

Where I come from opportunities
They never were too good
We never had much money
But we done the best we could

Ma doctored me from youngin-hood
With Epsom salts and Iodine
Made my diapers out of old feed sacks
My 'spenders out of plow lines

I'm a plain old country boy
A corn-bread loving country boy
I raise cane on Saturday
But I go to church on Sunday

I'm a plain old country boy
A corn-bread loving country boy
I'll be looking over that old gray mule
When the sun comes up on Monday

Every time the preacher called
Ma always fixed a chicken
If I'd reach for a drumstick
I was sure to get a licking

She always saved two parts for me
But I had to shut my mouth
T'was the gizzard and the north end
Of a chicken flying south

I'm a plain old country boy
A corn-bread loving country boy
I raise cane on Saturday
But I go to church on Sunday

I'm a plain old country boy
A corn-bread loving country boy
I'll be looking over that old gray mule
When the sun comes up on Monday

Chords

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  • D7
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