The Rolling Stone (Will Thomas Withrow)
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I'm an A1 charter member of the ramblers of unrest
Known to every bird of passage, Chicago to Key West
I harvest wheat in Kansas, I cut ice in St. Paul
Peddled books in Dallas, Texas -- went hungry in ‘em all

Well, I ballyhooed a circus across the middle west
Done the county fairs in Georgia, I’ve been a city jailer’s guest
I preached in Detroit city, I cooked the timber camps in Maine
Picked fruit in California, sunshine or rain

Well, I been a cub reporter on many a small town sheet
I’ve run an all-night diner, sold gee-gaws on the street
I rode the blinds and the brake beams, Seattle to New York
Crossed the sea to chase adventure -- Berlin, Paris, Dublin, Cork

I walked the streets in China -- stowed away across the sea
I thumbed the roads of Europe, mostly broke but always free
I’ve been a lone stone rollin’ but I always rise to say
Found no place to suit me like good old USA

I'm an A1 charter member of the ramblers of unrest
Known to every bird of passage, Chicago to Key West
I harvest wheat in Kansas, I cut ice in St. Paul
Peddled books in Dallas, Texas -- went hungry in ‘em all