Sometimes it feels like this world's spinning faster
than it did in the old days.
So naturally, we had more natural disasters
from the strain of a fast pace.
Now Sunday was
a day of rest.
Now it's one more day for
progress.
And we can't slow down,
cause more is best.
And it's all an endless process.
I miss Mayberry,
sitting on the porch drinking ice cold cherry
coke, where everything is black and white.
Na na, na na, na na na na na.
Peeking on a sick string, when people pass by
and you call them by their first name,
watching the clouds roll by.
Bye bye.
Bye bye.
Sometimes I can hear this old earth shouting
through the trees as the wind blows.
That's when I climb up here on this
mountain to look through God's window.
Now I can't fly,
but I got two feet
that get me high up here.
Above the noise and city streets,
my worries disappear.
Well,
I miss Mayberry,
sitting on the porch drinking ice cold cherry coke,
where everything is black and white.
Na na, na na, na na na na na.
Peeking on a sick string,
when people pass by and you call them by their first name,
watching the clouds roll by.
Bye bye.
Bye bye.
Sometimes I dream of driving down an old dirt road,
not even
listed on a map.
I pass a dying
sun carrying a fishing pole,
but I always wake up every time I try to turn back.
I'll sing
it late.
Well,
I miss Mayberry,
sitting on the porch drinking ice cold cherry coke,
where
everything is black and white.
Na na, na na, na na na na na.
Peeking on a sick string, when
people pass by and you call them by their first name,
watching the clouds roll by.
Bye bye.
Bye bye.
Bye bye.
Bye bye.
Bye bye.
Bye bye.