John Stewart - Oldest Living Son lyrics

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