The people in this city call me country,
Because of how I walk and talk and smile.
Well I don't mind them laughing in the city,
But the country folks all say I'm citified.

The fighting men they say that I'm a coward.
Because I never push no one around.
Gentle people call me trouble-maker,
Cause I'll always fight and stand my ground.

Funny I don't fit.
Where have all the average people gone?

Some pious people point and call me sinner,
Because to them I've never seen the light.
Other folks think of me as a preacher.
I'm just doing what I think is right.

The wealthy people think that I am a hobo,
Lean and hungry, writing mournful songs.
And the poor, poor people think I am a rich man,
But really, I'm just trying to get along.

Yes, it's funny I don't fit.
Tell me where have all the average people gone?

And the government has given me a number,
To simplify my birth and life and death.
And still my woman thinks I'm awful important,
Like the moon and the sun and the sea and the sky and breath.

Yes, it's funny I don't fit.
Where have all the average people gone?

Funny I don't fit,
Where have all the average people gone?

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