Head out of the city
Move to different land
You say you want the country
But you just don’t understand
You put your fancy house
Right next to Farmer Brown
Then fight to get it smellin’
Like some boutique in town
So, go home to your city
Go home where you belong
You don’t want the country
Cuz you just tell us what’s wrong
We like the way we’re livin’
Don’t want our land to cease
So go home to your city, man
And let us live in peace
A farm can be romantic
To city folk, we’re told
There’s lots of space to ramble
To retire when you’re old
But we all make a living
By growing what we can
So don’t tell us it smells bad
It’s part of farming land!
So go home to your city…
We’re honest, just as country people are…
If you’re not happy, hop back in your car…
So go home to your city…
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