Pick the Wildwood Flower (with Mother Maybelle Carter)
Those cotton fields were hot And that tractor never was my kind of livin' And when I hit sixteen I had my size and I hit the road to freedom And I'm glad I wasn't there to see my Momma 'Cause she must've cried for hours I still hear her sayin' to me "Get your guitar and pick the 'Wildwood Flower'"
Now Memphis was big And it was hard to find a job and so I didn't And it was easier to go back to the country And it was more like livin' Now, I've been down every road And I've stood on every porch where they were givin' And if they had a dime on an hour I would pick the 'Wildwood Flower'
It's hard to turn around And look back down the roads that I have traveled 'Cause like a never endin' ball of twine My dreams have come unraveled Now as evening lays its shawl Across the shoulders of my life, I find I couldn't tie my life together With guitar strings and a poet's heartfelt mind And I'm glad I wasn't there to see my Momma 'Cause she must've cried for hours I still hear her saying to me "Get your guitar and pick the 'Wildwood Flower'"