Hey, Mama
Here's a letter from your son
Well, I guess my city days are done, Ma
And it ain't been three weeks since you came


Hey, Mama
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
I'm tryin' to plow furrows where the soil is made of steel
Oh, I wish I was home, Ma, where the blue grass is growin'
And the sweet country girls don't complain


Hey, Mama
So much perfume, I thought I'd drown
And thе Lord didn't seem to be nowhere around
Oh, I feel likе a flower on the vine


Oh, she was pretty, Lord knows
Thought that she would bring me joy
She laughed and she called me "country boy, " boy
And after she had been so kind
See Billy Strings LiveGet tickets as low as $46You might also like
I'm like a John Deere tractor in a half-acre field
I'm tryin' to plow the furrows where the soil is made of steel
Oh, I wish I was home, Ma, where the blue grass is growin'
And the fire light shimmers and shines