(ch)
Well, I’m a country bumpkin,
Yeah, I guess that’s what I am.
I know how to make a you-turn,
And I know how to turn a ram.
I sure is used to travellin’
A hundred miles just ain’t too far.
‘Cos that’s my neighbour, pardner,
Country bumpkin’s what I are.

(1)
There’s always beans at brekky
And there’s always wind at lunch.
Plenty of open space though
When it comes down to the crunch.
Dem city fumes are toxic
From factories and cars,
But out here in the country,
It’s just the wind us bumpkins pass.

(ch)

(2)
Out here ain’t no Mcdonalds
But Mcdonald has a farm
And on his farm he has a gun,
But out here don’t do no harm.
Any vermin on his property,
Mcbang, and the vermins had it.
One thing I can tell you folks,
I don’t wanna try Mcrabbit.

(ch)

(3)
Out here, ain’t got no tv
No reception anyway.
Stupid tv stations
More than a thousand miles away.
But we can watch the sunrise,
And watch the cattle run,
And we can count sheep day and night,
Who said us folks were dumb!

(ch)