Alan Jackson Gone Country
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	She's been playin' in a room on a strip... for ten years in Vegas. Every night she looks in the mirror... but she only ages. She's been readin' about Nashville & all the records... that everybody's buyin'. Say's... I'm a single girl myself... grew up on Long Island'. So she packs her bags to try her hand... say's 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 kinda 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 & privilege. He say's "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 backwards... as they use to be.     He's gone country... look at them boots. He's gone country... back to his roots. He's gone country... a new kinda suit. He's gone country... here he comes. He commutes to LA... but he's got a house in the valley... but his bills are pilin' up. & The pop scene just ain't on the rally. He say's "honey... I'm a serious composer... schooled in voice & compostion." But' with the crime & 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 kinda suit. He's gone country... here he comes. Yeah... he's gone country... a new kinda walk. He's gone country... a new kinda talk.     He's gone country... look at them boots.        He's gone country... he's back to his roots. He's gone country He's gone country. Everybody's gone country. Yeah... he's gone country. The whole worlds gone country. We gone.