Слова песни County Song (Pandering) -Bo Burnham

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Any big fans of country music out there? Yeah. Oh, some people extending my name — «boo» — that’s also approval. I think country music gets a bad rep, ya know? Why is it that when Bruce Springsteen sings about a fucking turnpike, it is «art,» and then when someone sings about a horse, it’s dumb, inherently. I think some of the greatest songwriters of all time are country artists. Dolly Parton… Willie Nelson, ya know? And if you’re writing honestly, that is art, and I would never bash that. The problem is with a lot of modern country music, what is called «stadium» country music — the sort of Keith Urban brand of country music — is that it is not honest. It is the exact opposite of honest

[Music begins]

Where instead of people actually telling their stories, you got a bunch of millionaire metrosexuals that have never done a hard day’s work in their lives. But they figured out the words and the phrases that they can use to pander to their audience. And they list the same words and phrases off, sort of mad-lib style, raking in millions of dollars from actual working-class people. You know the words, you know know the phrases, phrases like:

[Verse 1]
A dirt road
A cold beer
A blue jeans
A red pickup
A rural noun, simple adjective

No shoes
No shirt
No Jews
You didn’t hear that
Sort of a mental typo

[Pre-Chorus]
I walk and talk like a field hand
But the boots I’m wearing cost three grand
I write songs about riding tractors
From the comfort of a private jet

[Chorus]
I can sing in Mandarin
And still know I’m pandering
Hunting deer and chasing trout
A Bud Light with the logo facing out

Hear that subtle mandolin
That’s textbook panderin’
I own a private ranch that I rarely use
I don’t like dirt

[Spoken]
One verse, one chorus in the bag
Now it’s time to talk to the ladies
I’m hoping my Southern charm offsets all these rape-y vibes I’m puttin’ out

[Verse 2]
Good girl
In a straw hat
With her arms out in a corn field
That is a scarecrow
Thought that was a human woman, sorry

A cold night
A cold beer
A cold jeans
Strike that last one

I’m wanting you
I hope you’re feeling me
Subtextually

[Pre-Chorus]
We go to bed, you doze off
So I take your country girl clothes off
I put my hands on your body
It feels like hay, it’s a fucking scarecrow again

[Chorus]
Like Mike’s Evander-ing
Fuck your ears, I’m pandering
I write songs for the people who do
Jobs in the towns that I’d never move to

Legalize gerrymandering
Tolerate my pandering
You got a beautiful mouth
I got a beautiful (dick)

Y’all dumb motherfuckers want a key change?

Thematically meandering
Emphatically pandering
I got a tight grip on my demo’s balls
Say the word «truck,» they jizz in their overalls

You don’t know what land you’re in
I’m in the land of pandering
And I’ll be upfront
I do what I do ’cause I’m a total fuckin’ cunt-ry boy

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