If you like the music please share & subscribe, thanks!

https://youtu.be/zYXLOichZ6U
https://www.youtube.com/@theartificialhomewreckers
https://soundcloud.com/theartificialhomewreckers
https://open.spotify.com/artist/0TuHLZaDhxt6bLGZGKukJ7
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/the-artificial-home-wreckers/1787896253
https://theartificialhomewreckers.bandcamp.com/
https://theartificialhomewreckers.com/

#country  #countrymusic  #countryrock 

[Verse 1]
They said, “File off your edges, son,
Trade your plow for city fun.”
But this old truck still rattles proud
On back-road dust where corn’s allowed.
I’d rather pick a dobro slide
Than chase a neon billboard ride;
I plant my words in Georgia ground—
They bloom like honeysuckle sound.
[Chorus]
I’m a red-clay backbone man,
Rooted deep where good rows stand;
Can’t rewrite the dirt that made me—
Books and barns and Grandpa’s hand.
Bet your boots I know my brand,
Set like fence-posts in this land;
Say your piece, but understand:
I’m a red-clay backbone man.
[Verse 2]
I won’t shake hands for polished press,
My Sunday suit is faded dress.
Ask a crooked, sideways thing—
You’ll get the truth my hammers sing.
Between Amazing Grace at dawn
And nighttime blasting Skynyrd on,
I walk that line with weathered pride,
A sinner’s grin, a saint’s inside.
[Chorus]
I’m a red-clay backbone man,
Rooted deep where good rows stand;
Can’t rewrite the dirt that made me—
Books and barns and Grandpa’s hand.
Bet your boots I know my brand,
Set like fence-posts in this land;
Say your piece, but understand:
I’m a red-clay backbone man.
[Verse 3]
They say someday I’ll be outlaw-grade,
Still paying dues with sweet tea paid.
King James rides in my glove box,
Beside a flask of sour mash knocks.
When this world spins slick and fast,
I till my furrow, hold it fast;
‘Cause truth grows strong in crimson loam—
That red-clay keeps me headed home.
[Chorus]
I’m a red-clay backbone man,
Rooted deep where good rows stand;
Can’t rewrite the dirt that made me—
Books and barns and Grandpa’s hand.
Bet your boots I know my brand,
Set like fence-posts in this land;
Say your piece, but understand:
I’m a red-clay backbone man.

Whiskey Lullaby (feat. Alison Krauss)

Brad Paisley