To the Country

She’s got a ring around her finger, 
That’s got my name inside,
She looked at me dead in the eye,
And said she’d be my bride.

Now we’re living out our childhood dreams,
And waitin’ for the day,
When our little ship comes floatin’ in,
To carry us away…

To the country,
Where the green grass meets the sky,
To the country,
Near the sweet streams by and by.

To the country,
That’s where we’re meant to be,
Until we’re there, by God I swear,
We’ll never quite be free.

She’s the mother of my baby girl,
A glowin’ barefoot bride,
But the city’s not a place for them,
‘Cause flowers grow outside.

Now we’re bidin’ time with nursery rhymes,
And dreamin’ of that day,
When the fairy tales will all come true,
And carry us away…

To the country,
Where the green grass meets the sky,
To the country,
Near the sweet streams by and by.

To the country,
That’s where we’re meant to be,
Until we’re there, by God I swear,
We’ll never quite be free.