(Spoken)   He was just an old country doctor   In a little Kentucky town   Fame and fortune had passed him by   But we never saw him frown   As day by day in his kindly way   He served us one and all   Many a patient forgot to pay   Altho' doc's fees were small      But Old Doc Brown didn't seem to mind   He didn't even send out bills   His only ambition was to find   It seems, sure cures for aches and ills   Why nearly half the folks in my home town   Yes, I'm one of them too   Were ushered in by Old Doc Brown   When we made our first debut      Tho' he needed his dimes and there were times   That he'd receive a fee   He'd pass it on to some poor soul   That needed it worse than he   But when the depression hit our town   And drained each meager purse   The scanty income of Old Doc Brown   Just went from bad to worse      He had to sell all of his furniture   Why, he couldn't even pay his office rent   So to a dusty room over a Livery stable   Doc Brown and his practice went   On the hitchin' post at the curb below   To advertise his wares   He nailed a little sign that read   'Doc Brown has moved upstairs'      There he kept on helpin' folks get well   And his heart was just pure gold   But anyone with eyes could see   That Doc was gettin' old   And then one day he didn't even answer   When they knocked upon his door   Old Doc Brown was a-lyin' down   But his soul - was no more      They found him there in an old black suit   And on his face was a smile of content   But all the money they could find on him   Was a quarter and a copper cent   So they opened up his ledger   And what they saw gave their hearts a pull   Beside each debtor's name   Old Doc had (*writ) these words, 'Paid in full'      It looked like the potter's field for Doc   That caused us some alarm   'Til someone 'membered the family graveyard   Out on the Simmons farm   Old doc had brought six of their kids   And Simmons was a grateful cuss   He said, Doc's been like one of the family   So, you can let him sleep with us      Old Doc should have had a funeral   Fine enough for a king   It's a ghastly joke that our town was broke   And no one could give a thing   'Cept Jones, the undertaker   He did mighty well   Donatin' an old iron casket   That he'd never been able to sell      And the funeral procession, it wasn't much   For grace and pomp and style   But those wagon loads of mourners   They stretched out for more than a mile   And we breathed a prayer as we laid him there   To rest beneath the sod   This man who'd earned the right   To be on speaking terms with God      His grave was covered with flowers   But not from the floral shops   Just roses and things from folks' garden   And one or two dandelion pots   For the depression had hit our little town hard   And each man carried a load   So some just picked the wildflowers   As they passed along the road      We wanted to give him a monument   Kinda figured we owed him one   'Cause he'd made our town a better place   For all the good he'd done   But monuments cost money   So, we did the best we could   And on his grave we gently placed   A monument - of wood      We pulled up that old hitchin' post   Where Doc had nailed his sign   And we painted it white and to all of us   It certainly did look fine   Now the rains and snow has washed away   Our white trimmings of paint   And there ain't nothin' left but Doc's own sign   And that is gettin' faint      Still, when southern breezes and flickering stars   Caress our sleeping town   And the pale moon shines through Kentucky pines   On the grave of Old Doc Brown   You can still see that old hitchin' post   As if an answer to our prayers   Mutely telling the whole wide world   Doc Brown has moved up stairs