Dedicated to all those songwriters who’ve been written off, underestimated and overlooked. It’s for the outlaws, freaks, rebels, mutineers and renegade poets.

Turn on the radio

Country station playing crap

You can keep your country hip hop

And your cowboy rap

Chasing trends

Chasing dreams

Everyone trying to be

The next big thing

It’s all flash and flare

Manufactured stars

Songs spit shined and sold 

Just like used cars

Ya heard it in a song

Swore it’s’ written just for you

Pedal Steel crying

 Voice ain’t pretty, but it’s true

Heard it at the Ryman

And the Grand Ole Opry

You’ll know it when you hear it

Cause it sounds like country

These days, I swear

Johnny Cash couldn’t get a record deal

That’s why I’m here to say 

Fuck Nashville

This towns built on music

Child of gospel and blues

Country music is simple

Three chords and the truth

Call me old fashioned

Say I’m an old fool

Cause I still play Merle

Guess that makes me old school

I’m headed back home

This town don’t care for me

Play my music on my front porch 

With my friends and family 

Turn on the radio

Country music, is this what I get?

Every song sounds the same

Different twang, same old shit

Heard it at the Ryman

And the Grand Ole Opry

You’ll know it when you hear it

Cause it sound like country

These days, I swear

George Jones couldn’t get a record deal

That’s why I’m here to say 

Fuck Nashville