Lyrics

French poodle in the front seat, long black Mercedes Benz.
Mountain bike on a Subaru, celebrating diversity.
Greenpeace and Sierra Club, shutting down the farms from coast to coast.
High tea in the clubhouse, and mainstream Nashville radio.

Well that ain't country. No mam that ain't country.
A 3 piece suit and a briefcase, driving in the carpool lane.
Sorry that ain't country. Afraid that ain't country.
That ain't the way that I was raised, no that ain't country.

Hank Williams and a sawdust floor. Merle, Waylon, and the Man in Black.
An old Ford pickup and a half breed dog named Bill.
Twin fiddles and a steel guitar. A John Deere plowing up a field.
A four wheel drive stuck in the mud and mom's apple pie.

Now that's country. Yeah man that's country.
As country as a fishing hole and a cooler full of beer.
You can bet that's country. Oh yeah, that's country.
Now that's the way that I was raised, yeah that's country.

Turn that radio off man it's hurting my ears.
You can call that whatever you like, but, shoot...that ain't country.
You know this song doesn't have one rhyme in it?...now that's country.
Where's my fishing pole?