Well, New York City, I’ve seen your heights
and I’ve put down in Cleveland my share of nights
Spent time in Chicago, hog killer of the world
I’ve seen things in Los Angeles that’d make your hair curl

And it’s time, time, time for the wide open fields
Yes it’s time, time, time to find something real
Yes it’s time, time, to kick the concrete out of my songs
Clay County, hey, hey, that’s where I belong

Some place ahead of me sits a woman with dirt on her face
By a pond in a forest, there’s nothing to chase
In my rear view the smokestacks get smaller and smaller
And I roll down my window, stick my head out and holler

That it’s time, time, time for the wide open fields
Yes it’s time, time, time to find something real
Yes it’s time, time, to kick the concrete out of my songs
Clay County, hey, hey, that’s where I belong

And I raise my hands to the world, nothing will ever be bad again
What a lucky what a lucky girl, who will one day have this man

There’ enough broken men who want your coins in their hat
I felt enough times that I was one paycheck from that
Spent enough nights in hotels and cafes and bars
Spent enough nights looking up and not seeing no stars

(lyrics: Dan Bern)