Lyrics

Wilful Road

(beginning)
I?ve got a shotgun sittin?
Inside of my door
And a hound dog on the porch

I?ve got a still in the woods
Just over that hill
Yonder down Wilful Road

Now some people say
It ain?t right these days
To be still livin? this way

Well the progress stops
Right at my fence
Yonder down Wilful Road

(middle)
And I don?t see no wrong
I Ain?t got no urban decay
Got home made marmelade
And a full grown pigeon on the way

And I don?t want you around
Ain?t got no desire to talk
Got homemade loaf at the table
And on Sundays I cut a slice of pork

And I don?t look over the hill
Ain?t got no time to spend
Got home made pie in the stove
And a point of view to defend

(end)
They figure me a hermit
But I?ve got my ways
Me and myself
Talk almost every day

We take a little walk
And take our load
Toss it down the hill
Yonder down Wilful Road
Yonder down Wilful Road


copyright©2006JanMateboer