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She would meet me in the morning on my way down to the river |
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Waiting patient by the chinaberry tree |
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With her feet already dusty from the pathway to the levy |
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And her little blue jeans rolled up to her knees |
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I'd pay her no attention as she tagged along beside me |
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Trying hard to copy everything I did |
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But I couldn't keep from smiling when I'd hear somebody saying |
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"Looky yonder there goes Jody and the kid" |
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Even after we grew older, we could still be seen together |
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As we walked along the levy, holding hands |
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For as surely as the seasons, she was changin' to a woman |
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And I'd lived enough to call myself a man |
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And she often lay beside me in the coolness of the evening |
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Til' the morning sun was shining on my bed |
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And at times when she was sleeping, I'd smile when I'd remember |
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How they use to call us 'Jody and the kid' |
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Now the world's a little older and the years have changed the river |
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'Cause there's houses where they didn't used to be |
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And on Sundays I go walking down the pathway to the levy |
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With another little girl who follows me |
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And it makes the old folks smile to see her tag along beside me |
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Doing little things the way her mama did |
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But it gets a little lonesome when I hear somebody sayin' |
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"Looky yonder there goes Jody and the kid" |
