The Man Who Picked the Wildwood Flower

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
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 standing 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...