MY DADDY WAS A SAWYER THOUGH THE TREES DIDN'T KNOW FOR DADDY DID HIS SAWIN WITH THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW HE PLAYED THE DOWN HOME COUNTRY SONGS AND MOST OF THEM HE WROTE HE PLAYED THE MELODY BY EAR CAUSE HE COULDN'T READ THE NOTES SOMETIMES IN THE EVENING HE WOULD GO INTO HIS ROOM HE'D WRITE DOWN ALL HIS FEELINGS AND SET THEM TO A TUNE AND WHEN HE PLAYED THEM ON THE STAGE THEY WERE LIKE A VIDEO HE COULD PAINT A PICTURE WITH THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW THEN HE PLAYED A SONG HE WROTE ABOUT A GIRL NAMED CAROLYN WALKER AND EVERYBODY SWORE SHE MUST BE REAL AND HE PLAYED A SONG HE WROTE ABOUT HARD TIMES AND PICKIN COTTON SO PLAIN THAT YOU COULD SEE HIM IN THEM FIELDS HE PLAYED A SONG HE WROTE ABOUT A RIVER DOWN IN GEORGIA YOU COULD CLOSE YOUR EYES AND SEE THE WATERS FLOW FOR MY DADDY WAS A WRITER AND HE PLAYED THEM OLD ONE NIGHTERS AND HE COULD PAINT A PICTURE WITH THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW HIS HAIR WAS APPLE BLOSSUM WHITE WHEN HE TURNED THIRTY-THREE HE SAID I KNOW IT'S NOT THE YEARS IT'S JUST THE MILES ON ME I RECALL THE NIGHT BEFORE HE DIED TO A CROWD IN TUPELO HE SAID THERE'S ONE THING NEEDIN' SAID BEFORE I CLOSE THE SHOW YOU KNOW THE SONG I WROTE ABOUT THE GIRL NAMED CAROLYN WALKER WELL I ONLY DREAMED HER UP SHE WASN'T REAL AND TO TELL THE TRUTH I HAVE NEVER PICKED ONE SINGLE SACK OF COTTON BUT I HAVE SURE THOUGHT A LOT ABOUT COTTON FIELDS AND YOU KNOW THE ONE YOU LIKED ABOUT THE RIVER DOWN IN GEORGIA THAT'S THE ONE PLACE THAT I NEVER GOT TO GO CAUSE YOU SEE I'M JUST A WRITER AND I PLAY THESE OLD ONE NIGHTERS I MAKE A LIVIN' PAINTIN PICTURES WITH THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW