paroles de chanson The Man Who Picked the Wildwood Flower - Merle Haggard
(Tommy
Collins)
(Spoken)
Let
me
tell
you
about
a
song
That
was
brought
to
me
by
a
good
friend
of
mine
who's
a
good
songwriter
And
everytime
he
brings
me
a
song
I'm
always
willing
to
listen
But
the
story
and
the
reasons
for
writing
this
song
Were
even
more
interesting
to
me
than
the
song
The
old
friend
and
fella
I'm
speaking
of
is
Tommy
Collins
Tommy
told
me
about
an
experience
he
had
when
he
was
a
minister
Where
he
was
called
to
preach
a
funeral
for
a
man
with
no
identity
Tommy
said
he
never
forgot
the
way
he
felt
Like
here
is
a
human
being
who
someone
must
have
loved
at
sometime
And
yet
there
was
no
one
present
to
pay
respect
Just
a
couple
of
grave
diggers
a
funeral
man
and
Tommy
Then
the
story
switched
to
another
thought
bout
during
his
last
visit
to
Nashville
He
went
down
to
listen
to
an
ole
street
singer
That
he
always
made
a
point
to
go
hear
each
time
he
was
in
town
And
it
was
then
that
Tommy
discovered
That
Jack
Dupree
the
ole
street
singer
had
passed
away
And
Tommy
said
he
wondered
how
many
were
present
at
Jack's
funeral
And
it
was
these
two
true
to
life
incidents
that
inspired
this
song
(Sang)
I
only
saw
five
people
when
they
buried
Jack
Dupree
Two
diggers
and
the
preacher
the
funeral
man
and
me
The
pray
was
said
and
the
hole
was
filled
in
less
than
half
an
hour
And
I
said
goodbye
to
the
little
man
who
picked
the
wildwood
flower.
For
twenty
years
I'd
seen
him
on
the
lower
Nashville
streets
They
said
he
always
earned
enough
to
buy
his
clothes
and
eats
He'd
stop
awhile
and
check
his
watch
with
the
big
clock
on
the
tower
That's
when
I
asked
him
once
if
he
could
pick
the
wildwood
flower.
He
always
drew
a
crowd
because
he
put
on
such
a
show
He'd
dance
and
sing
and
play
and
smile
just
like
a
polished
pro
And
everytime
he
saw
me
standin'
in
the
crowd
I
knew
the
tune
that
he'd
play
next
would
be
the
wildwood
flower.
I
told
him
once
that
he
could
be
what
people
call
a
star
And
he
said
why
boy
I'm
happy
how
many
of
them
folks
are
I'd
hate
to
have
to
force
a
smile
and
feel
myself
turn
sour
There
ain't
no
put
on
in
my
face
when
I
pick
the
wildwood
flower.
Then
I
saw
a
thousand
people
as
they
begin
to
come
Business
men
and
opry
stars
party
girls
and
bums
And
on
that
little
mound
of
clay
bouquets
begin
to
shower
As
they
paid
respect
to
the
little
man
who
picked
the
wildwood
flower...
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