She´s been playing in a room on the strip for ten years in Vegas
Every night she looks in the mirror and she only ages
She´s been readin´ about Nashville and all the records that everybody´s buying

Says, I´m a simple girl myself, grew up on Long Island

So she packs her bags to try her hand
Says this might be my last chance

She´s gone country, look at them boots
She´s gone country, back to her roots
She´s gone country, a new kind of suit
She´s gone counrty, here she comes

Well the folk scene´s dead, but he´s holding out in the Village
He´s been writing songs, speaking out against wealth and privilege
He says, I don´t believe in money, but a man could make him a killin´
´Cause some of that stuff don´t sound much different than Dylan

I hear down there it´s changed, you see
Well, they´re not as backward as they used to be

He´s gone country, look at his boots
He´s gone country, back to his roots
He´s gone country, a new kind of suit
He´s gone country, here he comes

He commutes to L.A., but he´s got a house in the Valley
But the bills are piling up and the pop scene just ain´t on the rally
And he says, honey, I´m a serious composer, schooled in voice and composition
But with the crime and the smog these days, this ain´t no place for children

Lord, it sounds so easy, this shouldn´t take long
Be back in the money in no time at all

He´s gone country, look at them boots
He´s gone country, back to his roots
He´s gone country, a new kind of suit
He´s gone country, here he comes

Yeah, he´s gone country, a new kind of walk
He´s gone country, a new kind of talk
He´s gone country, look at them boots
He´s gone country, oh, back to his roots

He´s gone country
He´s gone country
Everybody´s gone country
Yeah, we´ve gone county
The whole worild´s gone country