King of Country Music

God is in the garden, devil's in the dirt Eve is picking apples, Adam's blaming her Daddy was a guitar, mama was a gun The king of country music, the daughter, not the son The daughter, not the son, the daughter, not the son Could the king of country music be the daughter, not the son? Got me some cows and I got me some chickens Got me a dog and a guitar for picking fights With folks who try to cut the string on my kite That's right No Southern drawl and no grits from grandma Eight thousand miles more south of Alabama You can bet, most famous girl ain't no one heard of yet Heh, but I'm all set God is in the garden, devil's in the dirt Eve is picking apples, Adam's blaming her Daddy was a guitar, mama was a gun The king of country music, the daughter, not the son The daughter, not the son, the daughter, not the son Could the king of country music be the daughter, not the son? Miss Kitty Wells was the first show I opened Ten years old singing "Will the Circle Be Unbroken" next to her Sometimes that country music pedigree is earned You watch and learn Nashville trailer park, I was seventeen Family band, Opryland, playing sets between writing songs Slipping demo tapes in laundry bags of stars You don't get far God is in the garden, devil's in the dirt Eve is picking apples, Adam's blaming her Daddy was a guitar, mama was a gun The king of country music, the daughter, not the son The daughter, not the son, the daughter, not the son Could the king of country music be the daughter, not the son? Five gold trophies, it's my inauguration Ain't gonna hear me on no radio station, that's okay I tend to get above my station anyway Haha God is in the garden, devil's in the dirt Eve is picking apples, Adam's blaming her Daddy was a guitar, mama was a gun The king of country music, the daughter, not the son The daughter, not the son, the daughter, not the son Could the king of country music be the daughter, not the son?