Backroads, Beer, and You

Sun up, steel toes on that gravel drive. Engine coughing back

to life. Dust in my rearview, paycheck on my

mind. Same old factory whistle, chasing time. But when the

clock hits 5:00, I'm gone. Headed where the neon's humming strong.

Boots on the rail, your hand in mine. Yeah,

we turn that grind into a good time. Backroads, beer,

and you. Tailgate thrown with a front porch view. That old Ford

singing, sky so blue. Every long hard day comes down to.