Eleven Hundred Springs:
Long Haired, Tattooed, Hippy Freaks
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This happens every time we step on stage,
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They look at us like we have lost our minds,
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Then we go and break into that San Antonio Rose,
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And they can't believe they're havin a good time,
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Every time we hit a truck stop on the road,
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They say you boys you must be in a band,
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What kind of music do you play and we say country,
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And there's that look like they don't understand,
They call us long haired, tattooed, hippie freaks,
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You know they ain't all wrong,
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You'd think they never saw a bad outlaw,
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Singin a country song,
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But if they'd close their eyes and open their ears,
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And let the music speak,
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They'd hear good old country music,
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Not just long haired, tattooed freaks
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So it's been some time since I cut this long-assed hair,
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And my ragged looks don't fit in with this place,
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Tattoo parlors, ain't we all spent time in there,
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We've got the scars that time just can't erase,
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But does anyone remember Johnny Paycheck,
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Or Willie, Waylon, or the late and great Doug Sahm ,
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Yeah, all them clean cut boys they got in Nashville,
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Don't know a damn thing about where we're comin from.
Repeat Chorus:
I'm still the only hell my mama ever raised
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