On the day they plowed these freeways in the dirt roads
And turn all those busses into barns
When they change all of those offices into silos
And turn all those factories into farms
When they elect a fiddler for a mayor
When they decide to square-dance now and then
On the day that all they coup up here is chickens
I'll come and be your city boy again
You want me for your city boy
But I want things that I enjoy
The smell of new cut hay and a country song to sing
And endless sky and air to breathe
Catching trout in mountain streams
The kind of things that country life can bring
Now and then I need some room to stretch my arms out
With the nearest neighbors somewhere 'round the bend
And on the day they melt this mall down into honey
Honey I'll come and be your city boy again
You want me for your city boy...