Lyrics:

She's been playing in a room on the strip
For ten years in Vegas
Every night she looks in the mirror
And she only ages

She's been readin' about Nashville, and all the records
That everybody's buyin'
Says, I'm a simple girl myself
Grew up on Long Island

So she packs her bags to try her hand
Says this might be my last chance

She's gone country
Look at them boots
She's gone country
Back to her roots
She's gone country
A new kind of suit
She's gone country
Here she comes

Well the folk scene's dead
But he's holding out in the Village
He's been writin' songs, speakin' out against
Wealth and privilege

He says, I don't believe in money
But a man could make him a killin'
Cause some of that stuff don't sound
Much different than Dylan

I hear down there
It's changed, you see
Well, they're not as backward
As they used to be

He's gone country
Look at them boots
He's gone country
Lack to his roots
He's gone country
A new kind of suit
He's gone country
Here he comes

Well, he commutes to L.A
But he's got a house in the Valley
But the bills are pilin' up
And the pop scene just ain't on the rally

And he says, honey, I'm a serious composer
Schooled in voice and composition
But with the crime and the smog these days
This ain't no place for children

Lord, it sounds so easy
This shouldn't take long
Be back in the money
In no time at all

He's gone country
Look at them boots
He's gone country
Back to his roots
He's gone country
A new kind of suit
He's gone country
Here he comes

Yeah, he's gone country
A new kind of walk
He's gone country
A new kind of talk
He's gone country
Look at them boots
He's gone country
Oh, back to his roots

He's gone country
He's gone country
Everybody's gone country
Yeah, we've gone county
The whole world's gone country
We're gone
Songwriter: Bob McDill