Written in a park near the L.A. hospital where son Bryan was born, two years before the Silmar Earthquake tumbled us back to Virginia. (BZ)
Well, I want my son to be a country boy
With fields and streams and meadows to enjoy
Where the forests's tall and green and the air is fresh and clean
And a sunny day can be his favorite toy
Yeah, I want my son to be a country boy
Now the city just ain't any place to grow
Well, I've lived here all my life, so I should know
In the country, life begins, but the city's where it ends
So I'd like to pack my family up and go
Now a concrete playground ain't no place to play
And the air looks like it's seen a better day
And this city life just seems to give way to country dreams
And I know we'd do quite well to get away