Hey momma here’s a letter from
your son
Well I think my city days are done ma
and it ain’t bee three weeks since I came
Hey momma I do remember
what you said
Say your prayers, before you go to bed son
And remember city women ain’t the same
I’m like a John Deere tractor in a half acre field.
Trying to plow a furrow where the soil is made of steel.
Oh I wish I was home ma, where the bluegrass is growing
and the sweet country girls don’t complain
Momma so much perfume I thought
I’d drown
and the Lord didn’t seem to be nowhere around.
Hey I fell like a flower from the vine.
Ah she was pretty lord know
I thought that she would bring me joy
She laughed, she called, me country boy ma
and after she had been so kind.