Now that the holidays have come
They can relax and watch the sun
Rise above all of the beautiful things
They've done

Go to the country take the dog
Look at the sky without the smog
See the world laugh at the farmers feeding hogs
Eat hot dogs

What a pity
That the people from the city
Can't relate to the slower things
That the country brings

Time itself is bought and sold
The spreading fear of growing old
Contains a thousand foolish games
That we play

While people planning trips to stars
Allow another boulevard to claim
A quiet country lane
It's insane

So the subtle face is a loser
This time around
Here we are in the years
Where the showman shifts the gears
Lives become careers
Children cry in fear
Let us out of here

Copyright: Broken Arrow Music
Writer(s): Neil Young

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