Boom boom crash cymbal
I got a cousin named John Kimball
He records his own music just like me
And he lives over yonder in O.K. LEE
Which is over near the town of my birth
On some of the flattest land on earth
And where ever it is that I may roam
That’ll always be the place I call my home
Boom boom chicka chick
What is it that makes you tick?
How much of it is where you’re from?
How much of it can be undone?
Deep thoughts on a Sunday morn
Thinking bout the place where I was born
Where Bud Lite flows down gravel roads
They all sip as they drive, everybody knows
