International Harvester

I'm the son of a third generation farmer
I've been married 10 years to the farmer's daughter
I'm a God fearing hardworking combine driver
Hogging up the road on my p-p-p-p-plower
Chug-a-lug-a-lugin 5 miles an hour
On my International Harvester.

3 miles of cars laying on their horns
Falling on deaf ears of corn
Lined up behind me like a big parade
Late to work, road raged jerks
Shouting obscene words flippin me the bird

Well you maybe be on a state paved road
But that blacktop runs through my pay load
Excuse me for trying to do my job
But this year ain't been no bumper crop
If you don't like the way I'm a driving
Get back on the interstate
Otherwise sit tight and be nice
And quit your honking at me that way

Cause I'm the son of a 3rd generation farmer
I've been married 10 years to the farmer's daughter
I got 2 boys in the county 4-H
I'm a lifetime sponsor of the FFA
Hey that's what I make
I make a lot of Hay for a little pay
and I'm proud to say
I'm a God fearing hardworking

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C'mon in, welcome, enter We've got your front row center for the freak show parade Everybody want's to be you But I know you see right through the sad mascaraed You wrap your arms

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" Quoi ? moi sortir avec un karloush ? Mais t'es malade ou quoi ? Mon daron il va m'tuer ! " " Putain mais les noirs ca pue ! Tu

Шаман живет в глухом краю, Но я туда билет достану, Шаману денег посулю, Шаману денег посулю, И он ударит в бубен старый. Заслышав бубен, заслышав бубен, Запляшут духи у огня И