[1] Hey Momma [5] [^b7]
Here's a letter from your [4] son [2m]
Well I [4] think my city days are [1] done, Ma
And it [^b7] ain't been three [4] weeks since you [1] came

Hey Momma
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 [^b7] John Deere tractor in a [4] half-acre field
[6maj] Trying to plow a furrow where the [2maj] soil is made of steel
Oh I [5] wish I was [1] home Ma, where the [5] bluegrass is [1] growin'
And the [5] sweet country [2maj] girls don't com-[5]-plain

Momma
So much perfume I thought I'd drown
And the Lord didn't seem to be nowhere around
Hey I fell like a flower from the vine

Ah she was pretty Lord knows
Thought she would bring me joy
She laughed, she called me country boy, Ma
And after she had been so kind

I'm like a John Deere tractor in a half-acre field
Trying to plow a furrow where the soil is made of steel
Oh I wish I was home Ma, where the bluegrass is growin'
And the fire light shimmers and shines