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Текст песни Terry Allen - Flatland Farmer

Terry Allen - Flatland Farmer слова песни




He`s a flatland farmerWho flatpicks and old guitarYeah he`s a flatland farmerHe flatpicks and old guitarHe don`t make no moneyBut he can out-pick them Nashville starsYeah the people come in pick-upsThey travel in from miles aroundAhhh the people come in pick-upsThey travel in from miles aroundYeah they park in his front yard...sit on his groundAn they eat fried chicken to that flatland soundEat a little...Well they call mighty NashvilleMusic City USAYeah they call that god-all-mighty NashvilleMusic City USAAhhh but get out of the city to where the farmer playsAn you`re into real music country without them city waysGet with the flatland farmerWho flatpicks an old guitarGet with the flatland farmerWho flatpicks an old guitarAn closest you`ll want to any Music RowIs a long dirt furrow where cotton growsGrow...Get with the flatland farmerWho flatpicks an old guitarYeah, get with the flatland farmerWho flatpicks an old guitarHe don`t make no money...AwwwBut I`ll tell...that boy canOut singOut pickOut playOut drinkOut pray...and out layAny of them Nashville stars

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