Nine Miles North of Mason Dub Miller
By Dub Miller
[E]Ni[A]ne miles north of Mason, that’s where I’ll make my stand
[E]ne[F#]ar [B]a tiny little town that time forgot, on a 10 acre tract of land
[E]I [A]aint got no education, but I got one good workin’ hand
[E]ye[B]ah[E], nine miles north of Mason, that’s where I’ll make my stand
[B]I [A]co[E]me from West Texas, in a town called Levelland
[A]I [E]hu[F#]ng [B]the horses’ heads on the pump jacks, and that’s how I lost my hand
[A]we[B]ll[E] t[A]he oil company went and fired me so I sued ‘em for all that I can
[A]so[E] t[B]he[E]y settled outta court and for my pain and suffrin’ got a 10 acre tract of land
Chorus
Well the farmers, they make fun of me and the ranchers just don’t care
that my watermelons done went under and my peanut crop went bare
they say 10 acres aint enough for a man to sustain and last
but I’ll show ‘em all next year when I plant the world’s favorite kind of grass
Chorus
Well my weeds grew up like wildfire, and the cash came rolling in
but the feds they caught my number cause the locals caught my wind
so with a match and a can of gasoline, boy 10 acres sure burns fast
now I’m headin’ for the border with a sack fulla money and a half empty tank of gas
Chorus
Well, I finally made it to Acuna, on nerve and lots of luck
and all I’ve got now is a bag fulla money, one hand and a beat up truck
them feds they took away everything, with the land I hold so dear…
but I got one good hand to pull the slots in Vegas, and I’ll buy 10 more next year.
Chorus
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