So now you're folkified
Fucked up on your Dylan side
A puffed up head you'll try to hide
You write some poems on the side

So head out east and change your name
Shave your head, they're all the same
Zimmerman, Hewson, Mellencamp's a loaded gun

Don't turn around, I'll let you down
No do look too close 'cause you don't want to see it
But it's blowin' in the wind, down on Maggie's farm
Where it's raining on some scarecrow sittin' in the yard
Of a little pink house, owned by Jack and Dianne

So now you're countrified, rocked up your hillbilly side
Fucked up in you doublewide, sippin' PBR's outside
But all them roots are ill begotten
Drunken cowboys soon forgotten
Washed out on the bedroom eyes
Of alt-country boys that been glamorized

Don't turn around, I'll let you down
No don't look too close 'cause you don't want to see it
That there's really no depression down in New Madrid
So let that wind take your troubles away
Doreen Doreen, Sweet Caroline, Rain Squall
Just take a lot of pills, take a lot of pills
Take a lot of pills and die