c-o-u-n-t-r-y

i ain't never hauled hay in the trunk of my car

but i drunk a little shine from a mason jar

i know how to work and how to have fun

i'm a good-timin'

blue-collar

son-of-a-gun

i like monster trucks

tractor pulls

country fairs

huntin' and fishin' and ice cold beer

that's the way i'm gonna be 'till the day i die

c-o-u-n-t-r-y

my baby looks hot in her high heel shoes

she looks even cooler in her cowboy boots

she can dance to the music

all night long

she's a stick of dynamite

she's bad to the bone

she likes boogy woogy

reggae

rap

pop and soul

hip-hop blues

and rock and roll

if you really want to know what drives her wild

c-o-u-n-t-r-y

you might not know it by the way we talk

we might not show it by the way we walk

but we're true and tried

genuine

certified

c-o-u-n-t-r-y

that's the way we're gonna be until the day we die

c-o-u-n-t-r-y

i said

c-o-u-n-t-r-y