A lot of folks have told me I was pulled 'fore I was ripe A winter apple picked off in the fall But even as a youngin' I was not the bashful type 'Cause I could yell the loudest of them all. CHORUS I'm little, but I'm loud I'm poor, but I'm proud I'm countrified and I don't care who knows it I'm like a banty rooster In a big, red rooster crowd I'm puny, short and little, but I'm loud. I learned to do my singin Walkin' 'long behind a plow The singin' teachers always passed me by And so I have to sing The only way that I know how Just rare back, open up and let 'er fly. CHORUS I sang a special solo song In church one Sunday morn' And I was plumb embarassed to my chin I hit a high note, looked around And sure as I was born Two cows and fourteen hogs were walkin' in. CHORUS