There's a little dive on a dead-end road
Called the Cross-Eyed Cricket Watering Hole
Where you can hear the sound of a steel guitar
And get loud and rowdy on PBR
But at the top of every hour, man, you can hear a pin drop
As ol' Jack drops in a quarter and plays Merle on that jukebox and we stop

And tip our hats
And raise our glasses of cold, cold beer
They say country's fading
But we're still waving that flag around here
And when it's time to go, you know you're welcome back
Where the people pledge allegiance to the hag

When the weekend comes and the weather's clear
There's a high spot fifteen miles from here
Where you can always find a few dusty trucks
With the windows down and the radio up
We sit there popping tops, shooting bull and singing songs
But you can bet your boots that when Haggard comes on

We tip our hats
And raise our glasses of cold, cold beer
They say country's fading
But we're still waving that flag around here
And when it's time to go, you know you're welcome back
Where the people pledge allegiance to the hag

One of these days when my time has come
You can take me back to where I'm from
Put me on a westbound train
And ship me off in the pouring rain
Don't cry for me when I'm gone
Just put a quarter in the jukebox and sing me back home

And tip your hats
And raise your glasses of cold, cold beer
They say country's fading
But just keep waving that flag 'round here
And I know it'll keep on coming back
Long as people pledge allegiance
Where folks still pledge allegiance
I pledge allegiance to the Hag