Well, I rolled into Moffett, Oklahoma
Down by that Arkansas state line
I walked into a honky tonk and ordered
A glass of California wine

He said we got Oklahoma Blue we got Arkansas home brew
But, no sir, we don't dig that foreign kind
We got brandy, rum and gin and moonshine for the men
But we don't dig no California wine

A big cat stood up at a piano
His beard was at least a foot long
I walked up to the bandstand and asked him
To play me a hillbilly song

He said we play rock and we play pop, we play blues and we play bop
But, no sir, we don't dig down on the farm
We play jazz and we play jerk and we watch those miniskirts
But we don't dig no hillbilly song

I sat myself down at a poker table
The sign said dealers' choice, I played awhile
When my deal came I flipped the first card over
Said spit in the ocean Cucamonga style

He said we play draw and we play stud
And I mean Bud we play for blood
But no sir we don't dig no nothin' wild
You can buy one in a pinch, stack the deck or check a cinch
But we don't dig no Cucamonga style

I dropped a dollar on the blackjack table
And told the dealer let the face cards fall
Then I turned over eighteen and said hit me
Well, he did and that's the last thing I recall

Well, I guess you know the rest, I've got my semi pointed West
Yes sir, whine, big diesel, whine
And if I ever see old Moffett, Oklahoma again
It'll be West of the California line

They'll have to move it
West of that California line