Hills Pickin' Soil

If you ride a horse on a hill called Diggin' Folmes
Sheeps that are fed by hillbillies with guitars
Trains run by the railroad operators built many years ago
And I got the corn in the hills pickin' rock on my soil

Well, it's said that's just a few days since a cowboy came
Against a hillbilly boy playing blues at the western bar
He sung things nobody known what he sang out
They thought he was filled of cocaine

Hillbilly, the hilltops, the hillocks it rocks my soul
She might got down and picked a mole
Before my heart she mighty ducks away
Big bigger tools pickin' the tops of a hill I walked

I tugged my hammer and my silver pick
And the hilltop rugged the ridged road
They said these mountains are done on my hills
And I said, "Go fuck you, man! Get your paid nook and stay away"
It's speed is like a faster punch in your stomach
It's a mighty fine new way to ride before a boil
Like sung I one say our songs of our soil

I ride on hilltops and hillocks 'til the night comes
And no man except me walk around this place
Peaceful day is more than rewards of dollars or trial
I mean that on my songs to my soil

And my soul lives down the hill's canes
C'mon over down my food and add some sauce
Black Tijuco you've got my nerves on the bus I used to get roiled
As Caucaia dragged down on its soil

Pick up the soil on my sole down my folk song in my guitar
How wished I was laid down drinkin' energy drink down a bar