Gone Country

She's been playin' 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' 'bout Nashville and all the records
That everybody's buyin'.
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 'dem boots.
She's gone country,
Back to her roots.
She's gone country,
A new kinda suit.
She's gone country.
Here she comes!
Well the folk scene is dead,
But he's holdin' out in the Village.
He's been writing songs
Speakin' out against wealth and privilege.
He says, "I don't believe in money, but a man can 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.
They're not as backward as they used to be."
He's gone country,
Look at 'dem boots.
He's gone country,
Back to his roots.
He's gone country,
A new kinda' 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 pilin' up,
And the pop scene just ain't on the rally.
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,
It shouldn't take long.
He'll be back in the money
In no time at all.
He's gone country,
Look at 'dem boots.
He's gone country,
Back to his roots.
He's gone country,
A new kinda' suit.
He's gone country.
Here he comes!
Yeah, he's gone country,
A new kind of walk.
He's gone country,
A new kinda of talk.
He's gone country,
Look at 'dem 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 country.
The whole world's gone country.
We gone!