Clip vidéo
Crédits
INTERPRÉTATION
Joey Moi
Programmation
Jimmie Lee Sloas
Basse
Bryan Sutton
Guitare acoustique
Tom Bukovac
Guitare électrique
Chris Tompkins
Claviers
Russ Pahl
Pedal steel guitar
Charlie Judge
Claviers
Wes Hightower
Chœurs
Rodney Clawson
Chœurs
Brian Kelley
Chant
Tyler Hubbard
Chant
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Chris Tompkins
Paroles/Composition
Rodney Clawson
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Joey Moi
Production
Eivind Nordland
Assistance d’ingénierie
Hank Hiriam Williams
Ingénierie de mastérisation
Scott Johnson
Ingénierie de montage
Paroles
You get your hands in it
Plant your roots in it
Dusty headlight, dance with your boots in it
(Dirt)
You write her name on it
Spin your tires on it
Build your cornfield, whiskey, bonfires on it
(Dirt)
You bet your life on it, yeah
It's that elm shade, red rust clay you grew up on
That plowed up ground that your dad damned his luck on
That post game party field you circle up on
And when it rains, you get stuck on
Drift a cloud back behind county roads that you run up
And mud on her jeans that she peeled off and hung up
Her blue-eyed summertime smile looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build a ten percent down
White picket fence house on this dirt
You've mixed some sweat with it
Taken a shovel to it
You've stuck some crosses
And some painted goal posts through it
(Dirt)
You know you came from it
(Dirt)
And some day you'll return to
This elm shade, red rust clay you grew up on
That plowed up ground that your dad damned his luck on
That post game party field you circle up on
And when it rains, you get stuck on
Drift a cloud back behind county roads that you run up
And mud on her jeans that she peeled off and hung up
Her blue-eyed summertime smile looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build a ten percent down
White picket fence house on this dirt
(Dirt)
You know you came from it
(Dirt)
And some day you'll return to
This elm shade, red rust clay you grew up on
That plowed up ground that your dad damned his luck on
That post game party field you circle up on
And when it rains, you get stuck on
Drift a cloud back behind county roads that you run up
And mud on her jeans that she peeled off and hung up
Her blue-eyed summertime smile looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build a ten percent down
White picket fence house on this dirt
Makes you wanna build a ten percent down
White picket fence house on this dirt
You know you came from it
And some day you'll return to it
Writer(s): Rodney Clawson, Christopher Tompkins
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