| It lasts a little too long, stays out too late
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| Smokes them reds, drinks too much, bottom shelf whiskey
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| Huntin', cussin', spittin', burnin' that candle at both ends
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| But ain’t that country
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| He fishes a little more, then he reads that King James
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| He searches for God out on the water, just like his dad did
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| Livin', prayin', sinnin', boots in the mud, washed in the blood
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| But ain’t that country
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| There’s always a little more much
|
| At the end of the money
|
| But he keeps on runnin', yeah
|
| Buddy, that’s country
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| And his heart ain’t gold, but he loves his woman
|
| Through wind and rain and dust
|
| Oh, that’s country
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| Oh, it ain’t always pretty
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| Sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty
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| Yeah, but ain’t that country
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| He’s done some wrong, he’s done some right
|
| Won and lost some fights
|
| Highs and lows, that’s the way it goes
|
| It ain’t always sweet tea
|
| Lovin', runnin', son of a gun, like an old outlaw
|
| But ain’t that country
|
| His rusted-out old four-wheel drive
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| Burnin' up hills, still got vibe
|
| That’s country
|
| But he’s red and white and collared blue
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| American, he’s me, he’s you
|
| That’s country
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| Oh, got nothin' 'gainst the city
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| Just likes his rolls, dirt and gritty
|
| Yeah, ain’t that country
|
| Ain’t that country
|
| There’s always a little more much
|
| At the end of the money
|
| But he keeps on runnin', yeah
|
| Buddy, that’s country
|
| And his heart ain’t gold, but he loves his woman
|
| Through wind and rain and dust
|
| Oh, that’s country
|
| Oh, it ain’t always pretty
|
| Sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty
|
| Yeah, but ain’t that country
|
| Now I laugh a little too loud
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| And stay out too late |