Wagon trail troubadours singing ditties genteel
In sad detail of maudlin plights
Their songs sing to the fields
Their county charm - their corny wit
Their libations instilled


Like a pack of hounds who hunt black bears down
They make a sound when the beast is found
The dogs surround – paw-ing at the ground
That’s how Oakies can be when the sun… goes down!


When Oakies sing – my ears start to cringe
When Oakies sing – It’s like my eardrums got reamed
As they’re plucking their strings
As it’s starting to sting
The people are nice
But the headache is mean
When Oakies sing...They sing?


Rubatos renditions with tunefulness desired
An old gitar with fraying strangs
Around a glowing fire
Home spun lines and twitty twangs
This prairieland choir


Like a boar’s left teat when a piglet feeds
Why do I need my eardrums to bleed
Sheep stomp and bleat – when they want to eat
That’s how Oakies can be when they hear… a beat!


When Oakies sing – my eyes start to tear
When Oakies sing – can’t they just hollar and cheer
As they’re fiddle their beards
As things start to get weird
I hate to be blunt
But my head has been pierced
When Oakies sing...They sing?


Hank’s an Oakie from the town of Muskogie
It seems
Junior followed family traditionally
But no they can’t help me
No they can’t help me
When Oakies sing


When Oakies sing – my ears start to cringe
When Oakies sing – It’s like my eardrums got reamed
As they’re plucking their strings
As it’s starting to sting
The people are nice
But the headache is mean
When Oakies sing…
Oakies sing?
Oakies sing?