The Country Is Gone The Felice Brothers

Your apron is stained
You work every hour of the day
You’re bound to get old young

Your father’s in bed
The cancer has gone to his head
It won’t be so long now

He burned down a barn
They cut off his heroin arm
And called him a junkie

Remember the days
When grandpa would take us up state
To play in the country

The country is gone
The country is gone
The country is gone
The country is gone