sittin by myself in the summertime when the heat is burnin down watchin the golden crops in the field just growin without a sound i was a boy raised in the country it s still a part of me you see no matter where i go it s a beautiful memory rise with sun at the break of day lookin out my window it s the same as yesterday sittin under an old oak tree pickin my guitar in the shade that old tree spreadin over my head is the closest friend i made just me and some lonely wooden music floatin through the air the grass is rustlin and the birds are singin and my heart don t have a care still another day finds me in the fields sweat is soakin up my ragged clothes but i d rather work than steal watchin the sun settle down over open texas land looking at the cattle and the horses runnin wild as they can life was different in the old days you just get a day s work done when you were finished workin in the fields there was chores at home to be done there was work at home to be done chores at home to be done so i was always hearin music always wanna play me some as a full time friend or the way to ease the end of a woman that swayed me some hearin those tunes always had a way of soothin out my soul when times got hard and work was slow music kept me whole sun burnin down through the trees gets so hot bring a workin man to his knees part of my heart part of my soul part of a melody hands are clappin and people swayin in simple harmony life was different in the old days you just get a day s work done when you re finished workin in the fields there was chores at home to be done there was work at home to be done there was chores at home to be done  late in the evenin on the front porch the sun is settin in the west me and the boys pass around the bottle and sing what we like best sing about our wives sing about our children singin out the delta blues we re simple folks and we like it that way got nothin left to lose watchin the sun settle down over open texas land looking at the cattle and the silver horses runnin wild as they can life was different in the old days you just get a day s work done when you were finished workin in the fields there was chores at home to be done part of my heart part of my soul part of a melody hands are clappin and people swayin singin in harmony life was different in the old days you just get a day s work done when you re finished workin in the fields there was chores at home to be done there was work at home to be done singin a lullaby