Sycamores grow in the long planted rows
Out there to break the April wind
Still the dust it always blows
In our eyes and in our cloths
And it's in our very souls
Like this song about me and Jim
The back of my hand started looking like a man's
Way back when I was only ten
Still the lonesome in me cries
Like a little boy sometimes
You can hear it scream
When I come out screaming like the wind
Me and Jim, getting thin
Fare-thee-well to him
Fare-thee-well now, Mamma
I'm gonna take good care of him
Me and Jim, getting thin
Oh fare-thee-well to him
But there ain't nowhere to run
For the oldest living son
Our dad, he was a gentle man
When we all worked at the store
The only time I ever saw him mad
Was when he talked about the war
We lost a boy at Belleau Wood, and
I guess he never really understood
What the medals from the President were for
Me and Jim, getting thin
Oh fare-thee-well to him
Fare-thee-well now, Mamma
I'm gonna take good care of him
Me and Jim, getting thin
Oh fare-thee-well to him
But there ain't nowhere to run
For the oldest living son
Me and Jim, getting thin
Oh fare-thee-well to him
Fare-thee-well now, Mamma, sleep well
I'm gonna take good care of him
Me and Jim, getting thin
Oh fare-thee-well to him
But there ain't nowhere to run
For the oldest living son