The Wildwood Flower grew wild on the farm
And we never knew what it was called.
Some said it was a flower
And some said it was a weed.
I never gave it much thought.
One day I was sittin' there talkin' to my brother
And I picked up a weed to chew on.
Then things got fuzzy
And things got blurry
And everything was gone!
(I didn't know what it was, but I knew it beat the heck out of sniffin' burlap!)
I finally came to and my brother was there and he said,
"Man, what's wrong with your eyes?"
I said, "I don't know, I was chewin' on a weed."
He said, "Here, let me give it a try."
I spent the rest of that day and most of that night
Searchin' for my brother, Bill.
Finally caught up with him about six the next morning,
Naked, singing on a windmill.
(He said he flew up there. I had to fly up there to get him. He was about half crazy!
Well, the very next day we picked a bunch of them weeds
And we set 'em in the sun to dry.
Then we cleaned 'em off and we crushed 'em up
And we put 'em in a corn-cob pipe.
Smokin' that Wildwood Flower got to be a habit.
Heck, we never saw it no harm.
We always thought it was kinda handy,
Take a trip, and never leave the farm.
(One wiff of that stuff and there you were ... followin' right behind the little animals.)
Well, all good things gotta come to an end
And it's the same with the Wildwood Weed.
One day this man from Washington came
Spied it, turned white as a sheet.
Then they dug and they burned
And the burned and they dug
And they killed all our cute little weeds.
Then they drove away (pause)
We just smiled and waved (pause)
Sittin' on that sack of seeds.