Gene Watson - Pick the wildwood flower

^GThem Texas fields were hot And that tractor never was my kind of ^Clivin' And ^A7when I hit sixteen, I had the size And I hit the road to ^Dfreedom And I'm ^Dmglad I wasn't there to see my ^G7mama 'Cause she must have cried for ^Chours I still ^Ghear her sayin', Gary Get your ^Dguitar and pick the wildwood ^Gflower

^GNow Dallas it was big, And hard to find a job, and so I ^Cdidn't It was ^A7easier to hitch a ride to Houston And it was more like ^Dlivin' Now, I've ^Dmbeen down every road And I've ^G7stood on every porch where they were ^Cgivin' And if they ^Ghad an hour, Or a ^Ddime, I would pick the wildwood ^Gflower

^GIt's hard to turn around, And look back down the roads that I have ^Ctravelled 'Cause ^A7like a never-ending ball of twine My dreams have come un^Dravelled And now as ^Dmevening lays it's shawl, Across the ^G7shoulders of my life, I have ^Cfound I couldn't ^Gtie my life together With guitar ^Dstrings and a poet's heart felt ^Gline And I'm ^Dmglad I wasn't there to see my ^G7mama 'Cause she must have cried for ^Chours I still ^Ghear her sayin', Gary Get your ^Dguitar and pick the wildwood ^Gflower