Buddy's old man is back on the booze, 
he's swinging a driver at a big bull moose, 
that keeps getting on the goddamn property, 
Or so he says. 

Cigarettes are expensive and whiskey ain't cheap
The winters are bitter but the summers are sweet
And you can get some modestly priced smokes at the Rez, 
If you're so inclined

Most of my time is spent in a big blue van, 
traveling the country with a five piece band
pick a little for the folks and sing when I can 
Granted I'm sober. 

Other days are for meant for chorin' 
Workin at the ranch to stave off boredom 
And keeping the calves from finding new ways to keel over
Just living the dream 

I was cooling my heels down in Tennessee, 
Post 82. Some buddies and me 
We were shooting the shit till we ran out of ammunition

Some dude overheard from across the room 
Instead of minding his own he'd just as soon, 
Sit down next to us and join in on the conversation.

Brought over some kinda beer, done something called a I-P-A

East Nashville kid in a cowboy hat, 
Couldn't tell a shoe lace from a lariat, 
And the furthest west he'd ever been is Ohio.

He's talking at me, says he's looking for work 
and he don't mind getting some dirt on his shirt, 
And would I be so kind as to hire him on well oh my oh. 

Surprised he didn't bring a resume

He says If you're doing fence then I ain't for hire, 
And if you're doing hay then frankly I wouldn't conspire 
to ask me about doing that either. 
 
I said what are ya good for? He said plenty. 
I could see this conversation wasn't going any which way, 
and figured I'd do well to leave here. 

So long buddy, you can keep your IPAs

This city life's sure got me tired
It's hard for a prairie boy to admire all the 
concrete and the towering skyscrapers 

Just as soon as I'm able to find my hat
I believe I'll leave and head on back 
Home where the tallest buildings are all grain elevators

Long gone to Saskatchewan 

Yeah I'm outta this place, bound for the farm

I ain't taking no greenhorn along
I have a hard enough time just keeping track of myself

So if you're in Nashville trying to look cool 
But ya can't tell a pretty palomino from a mule 
Take my advice and leave the buckaroo hat on the shelf

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Writer(s): Colter Wall