Gone Country

She's been playing in a room on the strip for ten years in Vegas Every night she looks in the mirror and she only ages She's been readin' about Nashville and all the records that everybody's buying Says, I'm a simple girl myself, grew up on Long Island So she packs her bags to try her hand Says this might be my last chance She's gone country, look at them boots She's gone country, back to her roots She's gone country, a new kind of suit She's gone country, here she comes Well the folk scene's dead, but he's holding out in the Village He's been writing songs, speaking out against wealth and privilege He says, I don't believe in money But a man could make him a killin' Cause some of that stuff don't sound much different than Dylan I hear down there it's changed, you see Well, they're not as backward as they used to be He's gone country, look at his boots He's gone country, back to his roots He's gone country, a new kind of suit He's gone country, here he comes He commutes to L.A., but he's got a house in the Valley But the bills are piling up and the pop scene just ain't on the rally And he says, honey, I'm a serious composer Schooled in voice and composition But with the crime and the smog these days This ain't no place for children Lord, it sounds so easy, this shouldn't take long Be back in the money in no time at all He's gone country, look at them boots He's gone country, back to his roots He's gone country, a new kind of suit He's gone country, here he comes Yeah, he's gone country, a new kind of walk He's gone country, a new kind of talk He's gone country, look at them boots He's gone country, oh, back to his roots He's gone country He's gone country Everybody's gone country Yeah, we've gone county The whole world's gone country Songwriter: Bob McDill