Now the city's just a prison without fences
He's got a factory job and runs a big machine
And the goin' got tough behind them ol' gray mules
His neck is red as Alabama clay
His job is just a routine he can't stand
So he went to raise his family on the farm
And at night he dreams of wide open spaces
So he slipped away one night 'neath the harvest moon
And the house he lived in grew up room by room
Then one day a picture came inside a letter
His neck is red as Alabama clay
Now he's goin' home this time to stay
The farm grew to be a moneymaker
Fresh dirt between his toes and on his hands
The boy worked hard but soon got tired of farmin'
But the city's call pulled him away
His daddy worked hard from sunup to sundown
Where the roots run deep on the family tree
Of a young girl with a baby in her arms
And the words she wrote would change his life forever
He don't miss the farm or the fields of green
His neck was red as Alabama clay
And the tractor rolls through the fields of green
Where the roots run deep on the family tree
And the tractor rolls through the fields of green
Now he's goin' home this time to stay
