THERE´S A ROADHOUSE JUST OUTSIDE OF TOWN ON A TWO LANE BLACKTOP
WHERE ALL THE FOLKS COME TO HEAR COUNTRY MUSIC PLAY
EVERY YEAR THE CITY´S GETTIN´ CLOSER AND LORD KNOWS IT WON´T STOP

AND OLD HANK THE BARTENDER GAVE US THE BAD NEWS TODAY
THIS LAND WAS OUR LAND BUT LORD NOW IT´S THEIR LAND
WE´RE STILL HERE BUT NOT FOR LONG
SO LET´S RAISE A COLD ONE AND SING ALL THE OLD ONES
TIL WE´VE SUNG THE LAST COUNTRY SONG
THERE´S THREE HUNDRED ACRES OF COTTON AND CORN
AND A LITTLE BIT OF GRAVEL
ALL BOUGHT UP BY A BUILDER FROM DOWNTOWN
TOMORROW WHEN THE EARTH STARTS SHAKIN´
AND THE WALLS START TO RATTLE
A BIG BULLDOZER´S GONNA SMASH HANK´S ROADHOUSE DOWN
B@WILL WE SING