Flatland Farmer Lyrics - Small Town Family Dream - Josh Abbott

He's a flatland farmer 

Who flat-picks an old guitar 

Yeah, he's a flatland farmer 

He flat-picks 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 driving in from miles around 

Yeah, the people come in pick-ups 

They're driving 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 flat-picks an old guitar 

Get with the flatland farmer 

Who flat-picks 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 flat-picks an old guitar 

Get with the flatland farmer 

Who flat-picks an old guitar 

He don't make no money, aw 

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