Dear mama, well, here's a letter from your girlWell, I think my city days are done, momAnd it ain't been three weeks since I cameAnd mama, do remember what you saidSay your prayers before you go to bed, childAnd remember city boys ain't the sameI'm like the John Deere tractorIn a half acre fieldTryin' to plow a furrowWhere the soil is made of steelHow I wish I was home, momWhere the blue grass is growin'And the sweet country boys don't complainAnd, mama, so much perfume I thought I'd drownAnd the Lord didn't seem to be nowhere aroundHey, I felt just like a flower from the vineI'm like the John Deere tractorIn a half acre fieldTryin' to plow a furrowWhere the soil is made of steelHow I'd like to be home, momWhere the blue grass is growin'And the fire light shimmers and it shinesI'm like a John Deere tractorIn a half acre fieldTryin' to plow a furrowWhere the soil is made of steelHow I wish I was home, momWhere the blue grass is growin'And the sweet country boys...
