I remember to this day,
|
the bright red Georgia clay,
|
how it stuck to the tires after the summer rain . . .
|
Will-power made that ol' car go,
|
a woman's mind told me that it's so,
|
Oh! how I wish we were back on the road again . . .
|
|
Me an' you an' a dog named Boo,
|
travelin' and livin' off the land . . .
|
Me an' you an' a dog named Boo,
|
How I loved bein' a free man . . .
|
|
I can still recall,
|
the wheat fields of St. Paul,
|
and the mornin' we got caught robbin' from an old hen . . .
|
Old MacDonald, he made us work,
|
but then he paid us for what it was worth,
|
another tank of gas an' back on the road again . . .
|
|
< repeat chorus >
|
|
Well, I'll never forget that day,
|
we motored stately into Big L.A.
|
the lights of the city put settling-down in my brain . . .
|
Though it's only a month or so,
|
that ol' car is a buggin' us to go,
|
you gotta get away,
|
get back on the road again . . .
|
|
< repeat chorus >
|
< repeat chorus >
|
|
-----------------
|
Me And You And A Dog Named Boo
|
| Perry Como |
