The Forty-Ninth Parallel Songtext

See I come from the country
From a family of status and pride
To counting tips in the city
As a low-class, working man's bride

We fell short on rent
We fell short on good time
Now I got nothing to my name
His name that I took for mine

Now I'm back in the country
With what little is left of my prime
I got the ranch now I just need a cowboy
On that forty-ninth parallel line

Should have married for money
Like any woman in her right mind would do
Instead I settled for love
And don’t you know that that's the worst thing you can do