| Where you belong
|
| Among the swirling whirling masses
|
| And the hurling throngs
|
| You’re still invited
|
| To the leave them all behind
|
| So take one long last look (girl)
|
| We’re running out of time
|
| Run for the country
|
| You could take my hand
|
| And let the wind be your comb
|
| Together we could roam the land
|
| Run for the country
|
| That’s where you learn
|
| That I’ll be waiting here
|
| If you ever should return
|
| You’ve taken your back train
|
| And I’m just taking my time
|
| Are you really happy baby?
|
| They teach you another lie
|
| You wanted excitement
|
| You wanted a thrill
|
| Can you see the rain turn to snow
|
| Or the sun fit on the hill
|
| Run for the country
|
| You could take my hand (hand) (hand)
|
| And let the wind be your comb
|
| Together we might roam this land
|
| Run for the country
|
| That’s where you learn
|
| That I’ve been waiting here
|
| For the day you will return
|
| A hundred miles from home
|
| I told you one hundred times
|
| Not to roam
|
| I don’t need no pity
|
| And I don’t need no daily grind
|
| Just one more you’re in the city baby
|
| It’s bound to change your mind
|
| Run for the country
|
| You can take my hand
|
| Oh let the wind be your comb
|
| Together we could roam the land
|
| Run for the country
|
| That’s where you learn
|
| That I am waiting here
|
| For the day you will return
|
| I’m still waiting here
|
| The day that you will return |