Backroads

riding on the back roads trying to find my way home Chrome crossing cattle guards watching the Moonshine letting the smoke rise swanging with a Trunk fool of that Kentucky's best im talking moonshine down in Texas as we cross the county line feel that country Breeze and smell the smoke in the air we party till the sun comes up you can find me still smoking on hay in the middle of the barn down south Texas we call family we don't call the cops Bealls next to the crops of that home grown green Country Boy and it's just a family tradition running through my bloodline alcohol in hard times up on the hillside trying to free my mind trying to find peace to this world in Harsh Times in search of a better way keeping my heart strong and hustle in my blood my Roots Run Deep I got a dream like Martin Luther King so we all got to change for the better trying to survive down this Dead end road avoid the government and all they new laws we going to be our own downfall too much drugs in these streets don't you see we killing off our own kind are we killing off the children