Frog of Prog (Ain't Got No Hop)

[Verse 1] Well, Frog of Prog, sittin' on his log, Judgin' tunes like he's some demigod. He sips his coffee black, calls it French press, Says, "Country's for the simple, not the complex." [Prechorus] Oh, he loves his twelve-minute songs, With no hooks to sing along. [Chorus] Frog of Prog, you ain't got no hop, Turnin' your nose up at a fiddle's drop. Hatin' on the twang, callin' it cliché, But good music ain't what you play. [Verse 2] Your vinyl shelves, they stretch a mile, Stacked with records that "define your style." But you can't hum a tune or tap your feet, 'Cause your heart's lost in a time signature cheat. [Bridge] You say "mainstream's poison," "country's a bore," But your prog-rock epics? Man, they're a chore. You’re drownin' in solos and cosmic dreams, While we’re out here livin' life, simple and clean. [Chorus] Frog of Prog, you ain't got no hop, Mockin' the steel guitar, callin' it slop. You hate the stories, you hate the soul, But that’s what makes country whole.