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Up among the Ozarks
A pryin' up the rocks,
Farmin' with a crowbar
A tendin' to his flocks.
Grubbin' with his sordid strokes
Hills rockier than sin,
Diggin' up the scrubby oaks
An' the chinkapin,
Soakin' up the sunshine
With his cheeks o'tan,
Passin' up the moonshine
Up to Peter Pan.
Lettin' all creation
Go a fiddlin' along,
Livin' by probation
On the echo of a song.
High upon the mountain
Hangs his little shack,
Where a crystal fountain
Gushes through a crack
From an icy river
Underneath the hills,
A gift of God the Giver,
A drink that ever thrills.
A little patch o' punkin'
On the sunny slope
Keep a feller thinkin'
How to mix the dop.
Ocre, beans, termaters
An' a patch of corn,
Terbacler. an' pertaters
Shu' as you are born,
All mixed up thar' together
On the rocky land,
Through all the wind and weather,
Grows to beat the band.
See the corn a growin'
You can hear it pop,
It seems to be a showin
That it never will stop
Till its gone up Jacob's ladder
Nearly to the skies,
Makin' mountaineer the madder
That he has to rub his eyes
To see the silky nubbin
So high up in the morn
That he has to gallup Dobbin
To gather off the corn
Before it grows up higher
A runnin' up the stalk,
An makes me out a liar
An have to use my chalk |
