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The Hollows
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Youngblood
Well i hopped over the mountain
About a thousand years ago
The city called me, mama told me
'Boy, you gotta go
More than a stone's throw away'
Since that day, my best friend
Has been this rotary telephone
It's the next best thing to a southern hug
From the mama that i left all alone
Farmer Youngblood, treat my mama right
Farmer Youngblood, take her out tonight
They say you're the talk of the town,
That you got plenty of seeds in the ground,
Youngblood.
Well you can't start a fire with wet wood
No and you can't keep a good dog down
My advice to you, mister mister is to
Cool your engines down. round town it
Sounds like you're a pillar, you're a
Pocket filler, spillin' favors from your whirligig
But my mama ain't no coin, ain't no sweet sirloin
That you can spend, chop and waste
Like a snot-faced kid
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Farmer Youngblood, treat my mama kind
Farmer Youngblood, harvest not the pith nor the rind
As the crow flies i'm miles away
But as the son flies i'll be there faster than you can say
'Youngblood.'
Well there's more than a handful of ladies
Baggin' groceries at your general store
Who've called your bed their own they'd like to
Call it that once more. they tore
My mama from a cloth that with all you've bought
You could never ever afford
So go rotate your taters,
Tell my ma you'll see her later
And get cozy with your corn
Farmer Youngblood, leave my mama be
Farmer Youngblood, mind your Qs and peas
Don't make me come down south
And wash that dirty mouth,
Youngblood.
I said i'm talkin' to you.
But God rest your soul, Mr. Youngblood.
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