About the song
A Town Called Muskogee: Where Merle Haggard Sings of Home and Heart
Gather ’round, friends, and let’s settle back for a tale spun in steel guitar and twangin’ banjo. Close your eyes, picture a dusty road unfurls before you, a ribbon of asphalt leading straight to a place called Muskogee. That’s where our story begins, sung by the one and only Merle Haggard, a man whose voice carries the grit of the earth and the warmth of a crackling fire.
“Okie from Muskogee,” as the song is called, ain’t your typical country ballad. It’s a declaration, a stand taken with a wink and a drawl. Haggard, a son of Oklahoma, paints a picture of his hometown, a place where front porches swing and the scent of honeysuckle hangs heavy in the air. He sings of apple pie and Sunday mornin’ prayers, of workin’ hands and hearts that beat true.
But this ain’t no idyllic postcard, mind you. Haggard’s Muskogee ain’t blind to the world beyond its borders. He weaves in whispers of war and protest, of a generation divided by ideals and dreams. He speaks of long-haired strangers and burning draft cards, of voices raised in dissent against a world on fire.
Yet, amidst the tumult, Haggard finds solace in the simple things. He sings of fly-fishin’ in the creek, of holdin’ hands at the drive-in, of the quiet pride that comes from knowin’ your place and your people. He ain’t preachin’, mind you, just speakin’ his truth, the truth of a man who’s seen hardship and found his own brand of peace in the heartland.
“Okie from Muskogee” is a song that wears its heart on its sleeve, a tapestry woven with love for home, respect for tradition, and a healthy dose of skepticism towards the winds of change. It’s a song that resonated with millions in the 1960s, a generation caught between the values of their parents and the call of a new world.
So, settle in, friends, and let Haggard’s voice take you back to that dusty town, where guitars hum and hearts beat true. Listen to the wisdom of an Okie from Muskogee, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll find a piece of your own story in the twang of his guitar and the quiet truth of his song.
Remember, this is just a starting point. Feel free to add your own personal touches, memories, or insights to make the introduction truly your own.
Lyrics
We don't smoke marijuana in Muskogee
We don't take no trips on LSD
We don't burn our draft cards down on Main Street
We like livin' right, and bein' free
We don't make no party out of lovin'
We like holdin' hands and pitchin' woo
We don't let our hair grow long and shaggy
Like the hippies out in San Francisco do
And I'm proud to be an Okie from Muskogee
A place where even squares can have a ball
We still wave Old Glory down at the courthouse
And white lightnin's still the biggest thrill of all
Leather boots are still in style for manly footwear
Beads and Roman sandals won't be seen
Football's still the roughest thing on campus
And the kids here still respect the college dean
And I'm proud to be an Okie from Muskogee
A place where even squares can have a ball
We still wave Old Glory down at the courthouse
And white lightnin's still the biggest thrill of all
In Muskogee, Oklahoma, USA