Country Livin'

Cans to kick, Sticks to whittle Blow that jug, or saw that fiddle Roll up your jeans,Go grab your pole Wade right in, to the old fishin' hole If you aint takin', what nature is givin' Then you may not relate, to our country livin' Your old pick up truck, a dusty dirt road Creaky front porch, of your log built abode Maple stock split, and stored by the stack Food for the belly, of old cast iron black If your tired of a world, that's material drivin Take a step back, and try country livin'