One, two, three, four.
Can't you see that ol' weepin' willow tree?
Just enough shade for my ice-cold Bud an' me.
I just sit here where the breeze is soft,
An' I play the tapes with the letters horn off:
There ain't no better way to end a long hard week,
Than some Hank wailin' from my pick-up truck.
Pumpin' like my blue-collar redneck blood.
Give me some Hagg, give me the possible,
With screamin' guitars on top,
'Cause country, I said, country is my rock.
Everybody needs somethin' to keep them strong.
Yeah, something they can feel down in their bones.
For me there ain't no substitute,
For three simple chords an' the God's honest truth,
An' a steel guitar from the heart to take me home.
Like some Hank wailin' from my pick-up truck.
Pumpin' like my blue-collar redneck blood.
Give me some Hagg, give me the possible,
With screamin; guitars on top,
'Cause country, I said, country is my rock,
Yes, it is.
Give me some Hagg, give me the possible,
With screamin; guitars on top,
'Cause country, I said, country is my rock.
'Yeah, country, I said, country is my rock,
Yes, it is.