(Conway Twitty)      Play, guitar play   Take me back to yesterday   Let me see, cotton growing, in the fields   Let me hear, my momma calling   Look a-yonder ya'll who's coming   Down the road, he's a coming home   But they know I never will.      I left them living with that awful thing I done   I didn't tell them I just packed my clothes and run.      Play, guitar play   Help me through another day   Help me make another dollar, before I go   We got time, for one more song   Then we'll have to move along   Another town, another crowd   Lord, I wonder if they know.      Can they read between the lines in my song   As I sing about a good boy that's went wrong   Guitar we got years to kill   We got to climb that distant hill   I wonder if they think of me.