[Verse] Lost in the backwoods, where the pines scrape the sky, Muddy boots on my feet, and a tear in my eye, Hard work and heartbreak, they go hand in hand, In this small town, where the strong take a stand. [Verse 2] Rusted old trucks, on a red-dirt road, Kids playin’ ball, where the river runs cold, Sunsets that paint the horizon in gold, These are the stories that never grow old. [Chorus] In this small town, life’s a little slower, We hold on tight, 'cause we’re never getting older, Cold hard truths are all we know, Thankful for the roots, in this soil we grow. [Verse 3] Grandpa’s on the porch with a drink in his hand, He worked these fields, made me understand, That it’s the simple things that make us whole, Like a warm fire burning, when the nights get cold. [Bridge] You see, it's the laughter 'round a supper table, And hands calloused from being able, To toil the land, and raise up strong, In a world that’s right, when everything’s wrong. [Verse 4] Church bells ringin’ on a Sunday morn, In a place where everyone’s together, born, Hymns sung loud, hands reaching high, Counting blessings, underneath this big blue sky.
