歌词
Took a trip out of town
Met a barefoot man in a blue gown
He said it's up to you how far you go
If you don't try you'll never know
By the Ryman there's a microphone
Covered in vines and kind of rusty
But whosoever pulls it from the stone
Will forever be the King of Country yeah
Aw yeah
Claimed he has foreseen it all
In a Mason jar not a crystal ball
Across the land to and fro
He asked me how I didn't know
By the Ryman there's a microphone
Covered in vines and kind of rusty
But whosoever pulls it from the stone
Will forever be the King of Country
With a swish of his beard he disappeared
But not before he said listen son
You're heir to the throne
By the Ryman there's a microphone
Covered in vines and kind of rusty
But whosoever pulls it from the stone
Will forever be the King
Forever be the King
By the Ryman there's a microphone
Covered in vines and kind of rusty
But whosoever pulls it from the stone
Will forever be the King of Country
The King of Country
Aw the King of Country
Yeah yeah yeah