[00:00.00] 作词 : Cordle, Scaife
[00:00.98]Alabama Clay
[00:01.64]Garth Brooks
[00:11.36]First time he saw the ground get busted
[00:16.83]He was ten and it was 1952
[00:24.05]His daddy worked hard from sunup to sundown
[00:30.40]And the goin' got tough behind them ol' grey mules
[00:37.28]The farm grew to be a moneymaker
[00:43.63]And the house he lived in grew up room by room
[00:50.63]The boy worked hard but soon got tired of farmin'
[00:56.76]So he slipped away one night 'neath the harvest moon
[01:02.89]His neck was red as alabama clay
[01:09.23]But the city's call pulled him away
[01:15.69]He's got a factory job and runs a big machine
[01:22.25]He don't miss the farm or the fields of green
[01:36.69]Now the city's just a prison without fences
[01:43.47]His job is just a routine he can't stand
[01:49.71]And at night he dreams of wide-open spaces
[01:56.16]Fresh dirt between his toes and on his hands
[02:02.29]Then one day a picture came inside a letter
[02:08.96]Of a young girl with a baby in her arms
[02:15.63]And the words she wrote would change his life forever
[02:21.86]So he went to raise his family on the farm
[02:28.10]His neck is red as alabama clay
[02:34.45]Now he's goin' home this time to stay
[02:40.57]Where the roots run deep on the family tree
[02:47.25]And the tractor rolls through the fields of green
[02:53.92]His neck is red as alabama clay
[03:00.15]Now he's goin' home this time to stay
[03:06.61]Where the roots run deep on the family tree
[03:13.18]And the tractor rolls through the fields of green
[03:19.96]His neck is red as alabama clay

作词 : Cordle, Scaife
Alabama Clay
Garth Brooks
First time he saw the ground get busted
He was ten and it was 1952
His daddy worked hard from sunup to sundown
And the goin' got tough behind them ol' grey mules
The farm grew to be a moneymaker
And the house he lived in grew up room by room
The boy worked hard but soon got tired of farmin'
So he slipped away one night 'neath the harvest moon
His neck was red as alabama clay
But the city's call pulled him away
He's got a factory job and runs a big machine
He don't miss the farm or the fields of green
Now the city's just a prison without fences
His job is just a routine he can't stand
And at night he dreams of wide-open spaces
Fresh dirt between his toes and on his hands
Then one day a picture came inside a letter
Of a young girl with a baby in her arms
And the words she wrote would change his life forever
So he went to raise his family on the farm
His neck is red as alabama clay
Now he's goin' home this time to stay
Where the roots run deep on the family tree
And the tractor rolls through the fields of green
His neck is red as alabama clay
Now he's goin' home this time to stay
Where the roots run deep on the family tree
And the tractor rolls through the fields of green
His neck is red as alabama clay