Life on the Field

My life
My life is hard
Sittin' outside
Playin' guitar
My life
My life's like a field
My truck's all jacked up
But I ain't got a windshield

And so
At the end
Ain't got no pay
Ain't got no pay
But still
I'm feelin' great
Cuz I got a fashion statement
On my arm

My farmer's tan
My farmer's tan
Intimidates the biggest of men
My arm goes from bein' as pale as a baby
To kinda slightly tan, just from the sun
Ain't that crazy?
My farmer's tan
If you cut off my sleeves
And the bottom of my jeans
Ain't that a relief
I'm a ladykiller
But need a painkiller
Cuz now I think my tan
Now I think my tan
Now I think my tan is a burn

You know
That's just who I supposed to be
A guy with a farmer's tan
Sitting down on his truck bed
But Mom and Dad, they disagree
Because they don't like my goatee
Or my neck beard, or my B-O
Or anything about my life, no

Yeah, I'm a deadbeat
But I feel the beat
Got my guitar and my cut off jeans
And Ma and Pa better believe
That I'm going to be somewhere with my

Farmer's tan
My farmer's tan
You know, I'm the biggest of men
My arm goes from bein' paler than a baby
To lightly crisped, from the sun, like KFC
Farmer's tan
My farmer's tan
Though my mom and dad think I'm a disappointment
I can make it out here, just my truck and me
And my guitar and my rolled up sleeves
Don't you think my tan
Don't you think my tan
Wait, crap, it's not my tan
It's my burn

I appreciate y'all listenin' to me
Uh, it was, uh, Biggie Oof on this track
I'm out



Credits
Writer(s): Sarah Futrell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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