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