Well, there's a little word that fits me to a tea.
I don't know how you spell it, but it's ?country.?
Well, I laugh when I'm happy and I cry when I'm blue,
cuss when I'm mad like I'm supposed to do.
On a Saturday night I'll have a drink or two
and howl at the moon I'm country.
Well, I chew tobacco and I spit it on the ground.
I talk to the cows when no one ain't around.
Trapped on the mountain when the snow is falling down,
yes sir, boys, I'm country.
I'm as country as a bronc on the western plain,
just as wild and twice as hard to tame.
As high on living as the noonday sun.
Well, I'll be country ?til the day I'm done.
City folks think I'm crude I guess.
You can tell I'm a hick by the way that I dress.
But that don't matter, I'm happy as can be
and proud as heck that I'm country.
There's nothing wrong with city, if you like it that's fine
driving them freeways and race against time,
But I'll bet you folks in the back of your minds
kinda wished you was country, don't ya?
CHORUS
C'mon, Boys, keep singing those country songs. Who knows? Maybe we'll convert all these
city folks into country folks and they'll all move out to the country. Then the country
Country is heat and dust and snow,
where the winters get down to forty below
And the work is hard and the pay's sure low
and it ain't all roses being country.
Hang in there, Folks. Don't do nothing foolish now. You got yourself a nice high paying
job, air conditioned offices, got a movie theater right down the street, {RETURN TO VERSE