Rambling in the back of a rusty pickup,

Prairie wind coats us with red dust

And the perfume of wildflowers

Sought by the honey bees' lust

This is the song of the country;

The sparrows and the finches sing along

With the crickets and frogs,

The bees and the dogs,

This is a real country song

A brook babbles along right beside me,

The sunlight shimmers with its laughter

Sprays the grass with every wind gust

And splatters the dust that comes after

This is the song of the country;

The sparrows and the finches sing along

With the crickets and frogs,

The bees and the dogs,

This is a real country song

We stop the pickup at the farmhouse

Only after the chores are all done

I pour myself a glass of sweet iced tea

And await the setting of the sun

This is the song of the country;

The sparrows and the finches sing along

With the crickets and frogs,

The bees and the dogs,

This is a real country song

This is the song that I want to replay

The melody I play every day

This is the song that I want to replay

The melody I play every day