Born On The Bayou

Now when I was just a little boy standin' to my Daddy's knee

my Poppa said, son, don't let the man get you, do what he done to me

'cause he'll get you, 'cause he'll get you now, now.

I can remember the fourth of July, runnin' through the backwood bare.

And I can still hear my old hound dog barkin', chasin' down a hoodoo there,