Lyrics:

If you fly in from Birmingham, you'll get the last gate
If you blew in from Boston, no you sure won't have to wait
And I'm learning, a little more every day
About the power of the dollar, and the people with white collars, and the good old American way

I've noticed I don't get much help, when they see my blue jeans
Some slick with a suit walks up, 'Oh, can I help you please?'
Yes I'm learning, as I gain a little age
About the power of the dollar, and the people with white collars, and the good old American way

Some high society lady says, 'Is your horse outside?'
'No, ma'am he's between my legs, but you're too fat to ride!'
And you're learning, a little more about my ways
And what I think about your dollar, and your white collar, and your good old American way

If you don't like my Nudie boots, I'm sorry about that
Don't make fun of my hat too, or you might get knocked flat
And you'll learn some more, if you ever pass down our way
About the folks without the dollars, and without white collars, hell they are the American way