[Intro] I heard the floor before the band, felt that low note take my hand. One step left, one step right, then the whole room came alive. [Verse 1] There's sawdust riding on the floorboards, there's a backbeat kicking hard, there's a six-string cutting sideways like a spark across the bar. Then something rolls beneath it, low enough to shake the room, and the brass comes in like trouble with a little too much truth. [Pre-Chorus] Don't slow down, don't stand still, if the low end doesn't get you, then the brass line will. [Chorus] Put your boots on the bassline, heel down, right on time. Let the country hit the low end, let the low end cross the line. Put your boots on the bassline, let the whole floor testify. When the brass starts breathing fire, there's no standing on the side. [Instrumental Break] [Verse 2] I want dust around the speakers, I want thunder underneath, I want every wooden floorboard keeping rhythm with my feet. Let the guitar keep it country, let the bottom shake it loose, then give that horn the whole damn doorway — let it blow the roof right through. [Pre-Chorus] Don't slow down, don't stand still, if the low end doesn't get you, then the brass line will. [Chorus] Put your boots on the bassline, heel down, right on time. Let the country hit the low end, let the low end cross the line. Put your boots on the bassline, let the whole floor testify. When the brass starts breathing fire, there's no standing on the side. [Build-Up] A little more dust. A little more weight. A little more trouble coming in too late. One for the floor. Two for the sound. Three when the bass comes back around. [Drop] Boots on the bassline. Boots on the bassline. [Instrumental Break] [Bridge] You can dress it up in city lights, you can turn the speakers high, but there's still a little backroad in the way I move tonight. And when that baritone gets lower, when the kick comes through the ground, I don't care what you call it — just don't turn the damn thing down. [Final Chorus] Put your boots on the bassline, heel down, right on time. Let the country hit the low end, let the low end cross the line. Put your boots on the bassline, let the whole floor testify. When the brass starts breathing fire, there's no standing on the side. Put your boots on the bassline, let the dust and sub collide. Country running through the rhythm, heavy bass beneath the ride. [Outro] Heel down. Low down. One more time. Boots on the bassline. Boots on the bassline. One more time. Boots on the bassline. [End]
