Wished I'd be a Catholic
I could ride with the cross
Sanctify the ground I plow
To reduce the loss
But I'm poor and Protestant
Got to plow it to prove it
Add furrows to my account
Poor boy is sinking down

Wished I'd be a Texan
I could listen to the wind
Have that vastness to my gaze
One star to guide my way
But I'm not a Texan
What's going to become of me
I guess I'll have to find out
How far my eyes can see

Wished I'd be a carpenter
I could work and feel the grain
Follow its design
My toil wouldn't be in vain
But I'm not a carpenter
I work what I can find
I am a weary soul
But I have a wishful mind