LYRICS
作词 : Bob McDill
作曲 : Bob McDill
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' about 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 to her hand
Says "This might be my last chance"
She's gone country, look at them boots
She's gone country, back to her roots
She's gone country, a new kind of 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 writin' songs speakin' out
Against wealth and privilege
He says "I don't believe in money
But a man could 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 them boots
He's gone country, back to his roots
He's gone country, a new kind of suit
He's gone country, here he comes
Well, he commutes to LA
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
And 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
Be back in the money in no time at all"
He's gone country, look at them boots
He's gone country, back to his roots
He's gone country, a new kind of suit
He's gone country, here he comes
Yeah, he's gone country, a new kind of walk
He's gone country, a new kind of talk
He's gone country, look at them 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