My driftin' memory goes back to the spring of '43. When I was just a child in momma's arms. My daddy plowed the ground and promised someday we would leave.
My driftin' memory goes back to the spring of 42. When I was just a child in Momma's arms. My daddy plowed the fields and prayed and did all he could do.
My driftin' mem'ry goes back to the spring of '43. When I was just a child in mama's arms. My daddy plowed the ground and prayed that some day we could leave.
If you're weary from climbin' mountains. And you've been troubled with heavy rain. If you're drinkin' from a fountain. That never cleanses your thirsty dream.