Crossing the bridge to Lawerenceburg
As the fog is rolling on the river
A real and definite chill in the air
Enough to send a shiver

The woods are all around
The leaves are mostly fallen
Which we all know means
Winter's definitely callin'

There on your left
The old train trestle high in the air
No way I would ever cross it
Even the thought does me scare

Then there's the Wild Turkey distillery
There on top of the hill
The smell of sour mash whiskey
The air around to fill

Crossing the bridge to Lawrenceburg
These are the things that I see
Though I wasn't raised here
Lawerenceburg is now a home to me.