| The people in this city call me country
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| Because of how I walk and talk and smile
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| Well, I don’t mind them laughing in the city
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| But the country folks all say I’m citified
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| The fighting men they say that I’m a coward
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| Because I never push no one around
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| Gentle people call me trouble maker
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| 'Cause I’ll always fight and stand my ground
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| Funny I don’t fit
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| Where have all the average people gone?
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| Some pious people point and call me sinner
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| Because to them I’ve never seen the lights
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| Other folks think of me as a preacher
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| I’m just doing what I think is right
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| The wealthy people think that I am a hobo
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| Lean and hungry, writing mournful songs
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| And the poor, poor people think I am a rich man
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| But really, I’m just trying to get along
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| It’s funny I don’t fit
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| Tell me where have all the average people gone?
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| And the government has given me a number
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| To simplify my birth and life and death
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| And still my woman thinks I’m awful important
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| Like the moon and the sun and the sea and the sky and breath
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| Yes, it’s funny I don’t fit
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| Where have all the average people gone?
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| Funny I don’t fit
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| Where have all the average people gone?
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| Songwriter: Dennis Linde |