| Half a mile from the county fair |
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And the rain keep pourin' down |
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Me and Billy standin' there |
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With a silver half a crown |
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Hands full of a fishin' rod |
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And the tackle on our backs |
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We just stood there gettin' wet |
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With our backs against the fence |
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Hope it don't rain all day |
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And it stoned me to my soul |
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Stoned me just like Jelly Roll |
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And it stoned me to my soul |
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Stoned me just like goin' home |
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Then the rain let up and the sun came up |
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Almost let a pick-up truck nearly pass us by |
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So we jumped right in and the driver grinned |
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And he dropped us up the road |
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We looked at the swim and we jumped right in |
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Not to mention fishing poles |
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Hope it don't rain all day |
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And it stoned me to my soul |
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Stoned me just like Jelly Roll |
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And it stoned me to my soul |
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Stoned me just like goin' home |
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On the way back home we sang a song |
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But our throats were getting dry |
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Then we saw the man across the road |
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With the sunshine in his eyes |
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Well he lived all alone in his own little home |
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With a great big gallon jar |
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There were bottles too, one for me and you |
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And he said Hey! There you are |
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Get it myself from the mountain stream |
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And it stoned me to my soul |
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Stoned me just like Jelly Roll |
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And it stoned me to my soul |
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Stoned me just like goin' home |
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