Sun rises over that lonely valley
corn fields they roll on row by row
wide open spaces stretch for miles
except for this ribbon I live on

It's always the same
no matter the games that you play
it's always the same
until you turn it around

In this lonely old mining town in the springtime
you can here a nickle drop on the floor
crows gathered on the fence post they're yakkin
with the scarecrow in the fall

It's always the same
no mater the games that we play
it's always the same
until you turn it around