Now back in the country where I was born
It's on a little ol' hillside farm
Ma pa raised six kids and one of 'em was me
In the fal of the year when the fields got white
We'd start pickin' cotton about daylight
And on Saturday pa would take it all to town

Then along about dark when everything was still
We could tell it was pa comin' down the hill
Cause he'd rear back and he'd sound off something like this
Uh huh uh uh uh uh uh ha ha ha ha ha
Uh huh uh uh uh uh uh ha ha ha ha ha

We'd go out to meet him with a lanter light
Cause the oad got crooked on a Saturday night
And he'd come on down the hill and he'd stop in the yard
He'd sit up there on the wagon seat and he'd say boys I'm hard to beat
Two hundred pound of steel and twice as hard

Got him right and wooly and full of flees
And I never been carried by old knees
Then he'd rear back and below out a chorus or two
Uh huh uh uh uh uh uh ha ha ha ha ha
Uh huh uh uh uh uh uh ha ha ha that's my pa

Got him rough and ready and about half wild
And he'd whip anybody about half a mile
Cause there wasn't anybody else there cept me and little Skeet
He was just as tough as a hickory brien
And I could dive deeper and came up drier
And he did it too right off that wagon seat

Well it shook him up when he hit the ground
But pa got up and looked around
And then reared back and he let us have it again
Uh huh uh uh uh uh uh ha ha ha ha ha
Uh huh uh uh uh uh uh ha ha ha ha ha ha