| Well, the bull was buckin' hard
|
| And the scene was so bizarre
|
| As a busload of tourists wandered in
|
| They’d never seen a wrench
|
| And most of them spoke French
|
| And they all got up to see if they could dance
|
| And up there on the stage
|
| A band called Prairie Sage
|
| Was tryin' to keep the old ways alive
|
| But the urbans, they wouldn’t listen
|
| Well, they bought t-shirts and went pissin'
|
| Off all the locals for comin' to this dive
|
| And I was there the night they killed country music
|
| I was sittin' on a barstool cryin' in my beer
|
| I was there the night they killed country music
|
| In one evenin', they destroyed the last fifty years
|
| Well, they all wore Calvin Klein’s
|
| The, tied behinds
|
| The little golden on the chain
|
| As I sat there on the back row
|
| Tryin' to hear the dobro
|
| I swear I heard one old-timer sang
|
| Hear him sang!
|
| I was there the night they killed country music
|
| I was sittin' on a barstool cryin' in my beer
|
| I was there the night they killed country music
|
| In one evenin', they destroyed the last fifty years
|
| In one evenin', they destroyed the last fifty years |