Southern Land

My great, great granddaddy’s great granddad left Ireland on a boat, without a dime to his name cuz he’d heard of a place where the dirt was rich as gold

And he fought and he starved and he worked and bled, carved out with calloused hands…

His own little piece of this Southern land

Yeah I’ve walked these fields and fence rows with a rifle and a fishin’ line

Been baptized in a Sunday mornin’ sermon, the fire of Friday night lights

And these deep fried, backwoods, homegrown ways are part of who I am

Yeah, my roots run deep in this Southern Land

You’ll hear live oak and magnolia in the laid back way we talk

Feel the warm kiss of the Gulf Coast in an old Ray Charles song

If you ain’t spent much time around here, friend, you might not understand

Why we’re proud to be the sons and daughters of the Southern Land

Now you ain’t lived until you’ve had a bite of pit smoked barbecue

Or seen those hills of ol Kentucky when October’s in full bloom

And When that waitress at the cafe drawls “honey, y’all come back again”

No, You won’t wanna leave this Southern Land

Cuz You’ll hear live oak and magnolia in the laid back way we talk

Feel the warm kiss of the Gulf Coast in an old Hank Williams song

If you ain’t spent much time around here, friend, you might not understand

Why we’re proud to be the sons and daughters of the Southern Land

I’ve been lucky enough to witness some of the wonders of this world

But from what I’ve seen ain’t nothin beats the love of a southern girl

So when my time down here’s over I’ve only got one request

Plant these bones down deep in that Southern Land

And you’ll hear cactus and mesquite trees in the way some cowboy talks

Taste that welcome home blackberry cobbler in a Dolly song

Yeah we’re all shades of brown and black and white, you might not understand, call us redneck, old fashioned, blue collar

But we’re proud to be the sons and daughters of the southern land