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just another idle love date now

Front Porch Farewell is a slow-burning ballad for goodbyes that come too soon. Set to the creak of timber and the quiet hum of memory, it's a tribute to moments you never forget — and the places you leave a part of yourself behind.

Front Porch Farewell

Well I woke up this mornin’, in my boots and my jeans,
Spillin’ beer on my dog, watchin’ NASCAR on the screen.
My truck don't run, but she still looks mean,
Got a lift kit higher than my self-esteem.

'Cause every song's 'bout trucks, dogs, and beers,
Some heartbreak tale that'll bring ya to tears.
If I sing 'bout my ex and a rodeo clown,
Y’all better know it's goin’ straight to number one now.
Yeah, it’s a country song, makin’ fun of itself—
Somebody hand me my belt buckle from the shelf.

Mama left Dad for a man in a band,
With a mullet so fine and a spray-tanned hand.
Now he sings sad songs with a fake southern twang,
He’s from New Jersey, but he still says "dang."

'Cause every song's got banjos and trains,
Moonshine stills and some made-up pains.
I lost my job and my last two teeth,
But my Spotify’s gold and my boots still squeak.
Yeah, it’s a country song that don’t need no help,
Just three chords and some barbecue smells.

We write hits ‘bout fishin’, and girls named Jolene,
Even though my bass boat ain't been out since '13.
If rhyming “beer” with “deer” is a sin,
Then Lord, I'm goin’ back to Nashville again!

Now I’m singin’ ‘bout singin’ 'bout trucks and dogs,
And my cousin Earl who lives in a bog.
If this don’t chart, then the world’s gone wrong,
‘Cause it’s the most country of any country songs.
Yeah, I'll made a fortune pokin’ fun at myself—
Now my gold record’s sittin’ on my taxidermy shelf.

So if you hear this on the radio late one night,
Just remember: I'm wrong... but I'm redneck right.

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