Gene Watson Follow

Well, them Texas fields were hot
And, that tractor never was my kinda livin'
And, when I hit sixteen, I had the size
And, I hit the road to freedom

And, I'm glad I wasn't there to see my mama
'Cause she must have cried for hours
I still hear her sayin'
"Gary, get your guitar, pick the Wildwood Flower"

Well, Dallas, it was big, and hard to find a job
And, so I didn't
It was easier to hitch a ride to Houston
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 an hour, or a dime
I'd pick the "Wildwood Flower"

It's hard to turn around, and look back
Down the roads that I have traveled
'Cause like a never ending ball of twine
My dreams have come unraveled

And, now as evening lays its shawl
Across the shoulders of my life, I had to find
I couldn't tie my life together
With guitar strings, and a poet's heart felt line

And, I'm so glad, I wasn't there to see my mama
'Cause she must have cried for hours
I still hear her sayin'
"Gary, get your guitar, pick the Wildwood Flower"