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Carry through the light of the pines, Where the fog drifts gently, Where the birds pleasantly sing. Where the strangers are kind, Dress strangely, So different from these car-choked streets, And nobody knows anybody else's names, Where the waitresses don't know your usual, And the coffee tastes like burnt beans. Where the Friday night football is a family event, Even if the rugrats aren't in high school yet, Where the number of trucks outnumber the cars, And the rust spots adorn the bodies like badges on a decorated soldier, And the mud is still spattered on the sides.
0
Jan 22, 2023
Jan 22, 2023 at 12:43 AM UTC
Small town Hometown feel
Carry through the light of the pines, Where the fog drifts gently, Where the birds pleasantly sing. Where the strangers are kind, Dress strangely, So different from these car-choked streets, And nobody knows anybody else's names, Where the waitresses don't know your usual, And the coffee tastes like burnt beans. Where the Friday night football is a family event, Even if the rugrats aren't in high school yet, Where the number of trucks outnumber the cars, And the rust spots adorn the bodies like badges on a decorated soldier, And the mud is still spattered on the sides.
Zach Bryan- Younger Years
TheBassist
Written by
31/M/Ohio
Jan 22, 2023
Jan 22, 2023 at 12:43 AM UTC
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