[Intro]
D D/C# Dsus2/C G D
 
[Verse 1]
 
     D    D/C#  Dsus2/C                            G    Em
Hey, momma,             here’s a letter from your son
        G                       D
Well, I guess, my city days are done.
        C                G               D
And it ain’t been three weeks since you came,
     D                             G    Em
Hey, momma, I do remember what you said,
         G                        D
Say your prayers before you go to bed, son,
    C             G               D
And remember city women ain’t the same,
 
[Chorus]
           C                       G
I’m like a John Deere tractor in a half acre field,
B7                                E               E7
Trying to plow a furrow where the soil is made of steel,
      A          D                     A            D
Oh, I wish I was home, Lord, Where the blue grasses grow,
        A             E           A        A7
And the sweet country girls don’t complain.
 
[Instrumental]
D D/C# Dsus2/C G D
 
[Verse 2]
D         D/C#  Dsus2/C                               G      Em
Hey Momma,              so much perfume I thought I’d drown,
        G                       D
And the Lord didn’t seem to be nowhere around,
      C           G             D
Oh I feel like a flower on the vine
            C
Aw, she was pretty Lord knows
G                               D
Thought that she would bring me joy
    C               G                 D
She laughed and she called me country boy, boy
    C     G               D
and after she had been so kind
 
[Chorus]
           C                       G
I’m like a John Deere tractor in a half acre field,
B7                                E               E7
Trying to plow a furrow where the soil is made of steel,
      A          D                   A            D
Oh, I wish I was home, ma, where the blue grasses grow,
        A          E            A        A7
And the fire light shimmers and shines.
 
[Outro]
D D/C# Dsus2/C G D
D D/C# Dsus2/C G D
              
              Hey mama, here's a letter from your son
Well, I guess my city days are done, ma
And it ain't been three weeks since you came
Hey mama, I do remember what you said
Say your prayers before you go to bed, son
And remember city women ain't the same
I'm like a John Deere tractor
In a half acre field
I'm tryin' to plow the furrows
Where the soil is made of steel
Oh I wish I was home, ma
Where the blue grass is growin'
And them sweet country girls don't complain
Hey mama, so much perfume I thought I'd drown
And the Lord didn't seem to be nowhere around
I feel like a flower on the vine
Aw she was pretty Lord knows, I thought that she would bring me joy
But she laughed, and she called me "country boy" boy
And after she had been so kind
I'm like a John Deere tractor
In a half acre field
I'm tryin' to plow the furrows
Where the soil is made of steel
Oh I wish I was home, ma
Where the blue grass is growin'
And the fire light shimmers and shines              
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