City Folks Call Us Poor Lyrics - Larry Sparks

Moon light shinging on the grassy meadow, looks like dimands shinging in the night.Whipperwills singing in the white 

oaks, Coondogs barking in the bright moon light. 

Honeysuckel smells just like sweet perfume, old dogs lieing over by the door, watermellon rinds mamma puts up in a 

jar, and the city folks call us poor 

Singing rock of ages on the front porch, watching fireflys ligh up now and then, listening to Bill Monroe on the opry, singing 

somethin bout his uncle pen. 

Honeysuckle smells just like sweet perfume, old dogs lieing over by the door, watermellon rinds mamma puts up in a jar, and 

the city folks call us poor. 

God he paints a picture in the evening sky, blue and purple, orange, shades of red. he knows we cant afford no fancy 

paintings, so we look at the real things instead.