God Might Be a Country Boy

The sun rising over those Georgia pines. The sound of a creek in

the quiet times. Porch swing swaying the summer breeze, you can almost hear Him in

the trees. How bluegrass picking tugs at your soul, and those Smoky

Mountains make you whole. He gave us lifted up trucks for old dirt

roads, and family and friends to help share our loads. God might just

be a country boy. A country boy. He gave us mason jars of

sweet iced tea. Hound dogs howling up an old oak tree. Crawfish boils and

sweet potato pie, there ain't nothing like a Carolina sky. You got barbecue