I must play the one and fifth only
And listen to myths troubling and lonely
Of cheatin’ and lyin’ and blue eyes a’cryin’
In the rain where farms burn to the ground

The whisky and smoky refrains
The rumbling rhythm of trains
The drawl and the twang and Good Old Boy slang
The Nashville and Bakersfield sound

Long roads, hard times and good people
Faith and the little white steeple
Captured in verse for better or worse
Troubles and joys are entwined

With four-string and passport in hand
I am leaving this old country band
For England’s bleak shores and her moldy old bores
Where sorrow is much more refined