Americana/ Country/Jazz
Songwriter - Dave Holt
Label - Bohemian Hwy Music
Artist License - BMI
Songwriter License & Affiliation – BMI
Chappell Holt - Guitar & Vocals
Dave Holt - Piano & Vocals
Karl Hartmann - Jazz Bass
Mayne Smith - Pedal Steel
Carlos Reyes - Violin
Lyrics
He was on his way back to the city when he stopped at a roadhouse to dance,
He met Pocahantas, lovely Indian maid and he had to try his luck at romance.
They were jumpin' to a Bob Will's swing tune the shells and feathers shook in her hair,
'Til she said, "It's late, my papa waits," and with a heavy heart he drove her there.
When I’m stuck behind a truck, old farmer chuggin' up the hill,
I was cursin' at the person who was drivin', tryin' to get himself killed.
That's when she smiled and said, "Hey now, city dude, what's you're hurry, where ya goin' so fast?"
Don't you know we're country people? We learn to make a good thing last."
So when he’s stuck behind a truck on the freeway, chuggin' up the hill,
He just kicks back and thinks back, the way she gave his heart a thrill.
When she smiled and said, "City dude, where do you think you're goin' so fast, goin' so fast?
Don't you know we're country people, we learn to make a good thing last."
Yeah, I’ve been thinkin' when I’m there in the city, what's our hurry?
We ain't gettin' nowhere, nowhere.
This country pace it ain't too hip,
But it feels so good to be so square.