Who was it said North is North and South is South
And never the twain shall meet?
Well, this song answers the question
Can a simple, God-fearin', beer-drinkin' country boy
Find happiness as a husband of a freaky, no good, psychedelic, neurotic, drug-usin', hippie talkin'
New York City bitch?

They say a redneck and a hippie should never get married
But we just laughed and done it anyway
For a while life was fine 'cause your life's so different from mine
But now it seems we both just ain't got very much to say

'Cause I realize you'll never love Hank Williams
And I don't like The Rolling Stones a bit
And all my friends have short hair and smoke "Lucky's"
And all your friends have long hair and smoke shit

So go and roll yourself another reefer
And I'll go pour myself another beer
And please don't ask me why we can't give it one more try
'Cause I'm too drunk to tell you, babe
And you're too stoned to hear

I like to dress up and look just like a rich man
And you like wearin' jeans and lookin' poor
And I like dancin' slow, where the Schlitz and memories flow
And I like to drink my Coke and you like sniffin' yours

But I keep pretending everything's Jim Dandy
And you keep pretending everything's far out
So just pack up your grass and shake your hippie ass
Right back up north while I stay here down south

Woah, go and roll yourself another reefer
And I'll go and pour myself another beer
Please don't ask me why we can't give it one more try
'Cause I'm too drunk to tell you, girl
And you're too stoned to hear

Woah, roll yourself another one of them reefers
And I'll pour myself another one of them beers
And please don't ask me why we can't give it one more try
'Cause I'm too drunk to tell you, baby
And you're too stoned to hear