Sometimes I Feel Like Nothin,' Somethin' Throwed

If My Serenade Of Song And Story Should Serve As A Pillow For Some Composer's Head, As Yet Perhaps Unborn, To Dream And Build On Our Fond Melodies In His Tomorrow, I Have Not Labored In Vain.

Whenever I Heard The Song Of A Bird And The Answering Call Of Its Mate, I Could Visualize The Notes In Scale, All Built Up Within My Consciousness As A Natural Symphony.

I Hate To See The Evening Sun Go Down.

You'll Never Miss The Water 'til The Well Runs Dry.

I Knew The Whistle Of Each Of The River Boats On The Tennessee.