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Dear, mama. Well, here's a letter from your girl
Well, I think my city days are done, mom
And it ain't been three weeks since I came
And mama, do remember what you said
Say your prayers before you go to bed, child
And remember, city boys 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
How I wish I was home, mom
Where the blue grass is growing
And the sweet country boys don't complain
And, mama, so much perfume, I thought I'd drown
And the Lord didn't seem to be nowhere around
Hey, I felt just like a flower from the vine
I'm like a John Deere Tractor
In a half-acre field
Trying to plow a furrow
Where the soil is made of steel
How I'd like to be home, mom
Where the blue grass is growing
And the fire light shimmers
And it shines
I'm like a John Deere Tractor
In a half-acre field
Trying to plow a furrow
Where the soil is made of steel
How I wish I was home, mom
Where the blue grass is growing
And the sweet country boys
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