Flatland Farmer - Josh Abbott Band, Josh Abbot Band

He’s a flatland farmer

Who flatpicks an old guitar

Yeah he’s a flatland farmer

He flatpicks an old guitar

He don’t make no money

But he can out-pick a Nashville star

Yeah the people come in pick-ups

They’re drivin' in from miles around

Yeah the people come in pick-ups

They’re drivin' in from miles around

They just park in his front yard and they sit on his ground

And they eat fried chicken to the flatland sound

Eat a little…

Well they call mighty Nashville

Music City USA

They call god-all-mighty Nashville

Music City USA

Ah but get out the city to where the farmers play

You’re into real music country without them city ways

Get with the flatland farmer

Who flatpicks an old guitar

Get with the flatland farmer

Who flatpicks an old guitar

And the closest you’ll want to any Music Row

Is a long dirt furrow where the cotton grows, grow…

Get with the flatland farmer

Who flatpicks an old guitar

Get with the flatland farmer

Who flatpicks an old guitar

He don’t make no money… awww

I’ll tell you that boy can out sing

Out pick, out play

Out drink, out pray and out lay

Any of them Nashville stars