| Well I would’a bought my grandpa’s farm
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| But I couldn’t raise quite enough cash
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| Now they’re cuttin' all the timber down
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| Turnin' all the rest to ash
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| A company came in from outta state
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| To building another stinkin' factory
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| And them county politicians think they know
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| Just exactly what we need
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| But I sit down by the highway
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| I hear those big cats growl
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| Where the quail gonna fly to?
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| Where will the rabbits run now?
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| I watch 'em tearin' all to hell what used to be my church
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| Tearin' up my grandpa’s land
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| They’re treatin' my grandpa’s land like dirt
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| A few more jobs and a lot less trees
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| Gonna put this county in the rat race
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| Like that’s where we want to be
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| This used to be such a peaceful place
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| And they’ll tell us that they don’t pollute
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| This shit they dump in the river is perfectly safe
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| But all the talk in the whole wide world
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| Could never bring back what they’ve laid to waste
 | 
| I sit down by the highway
 | 
| I hear those big cats growl
 | 
| Where the quail gonna fly to?
 | 
| Where will the rabbits run now?
 | 
| I watch 'em tearin' all to hell what used to be my church
 | 
| Tearin' up my grandpa’s land
 | 
| They’re treatin' my grandpa’s land like dirt
 | 
| There’s an ancient oak standin' alone
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| Tryin' to do the work of a thousand trees
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| Been here since the Cherokee called this home
 | 
| But it’s standin' in the way of a factory
 | 
| I sit down by the highway
 | 
| I hear those big cats growl
 | 
| Where the quail gonna fly to?
 | 
| Where will the rabbits run now?
 | 
| I watch 'em tearin' all to hell what used to be my church
 | 
| Tearin' up my grandpa’s land
 | 
| They’re treatin' my grandpa’s land like dirt
 | 
| They’re treatin' my grandpa’s land like dirt |