🎵 “The People, Not the Place

Porchlight

Granddaddy come down from Tennessee,
A broke-back truck, a stubborn dream.
Found a patch o’ land, built a home by hand,
Said, “Boy, this dirt’s where God made man.”

Years went by, and the fields turned gold,
Hard work paid, but the nights got cold.
He laughed when he struck oil one June,
Said, “Heaven’s got a funny way o’ boomin’.”

Son of a gun,
This wasn’t fun.
But we made it through the storm and sun,
Son of a gun.

Daddy took over with a heart full o’ pride,
A stubborn streak and a brand-new bride.
Lightning hit that barn one night,
Burned it down, but the cows all right.

We thought we’d lost all we’d done,
Till we found that calf when the day begun.
Daddy grinned, wiped soot from his face,
Said, “God sure works in a curious place.”

Son of a gun,
This wasn’t fun.
Lost near all, but we still won,
Son of a gun.

Now I’m the one with the land to tend,
Raisin’ my boy where the road don’t end.
Lost my job when the mill shut down,
Thought my time was over in this town.

Wrote a song one lonesome night,
Next week it’s playin’ on the radio light.
Granddaddy’s voice still rings in my head,
Sayin’, “Ain’t dead till the work’s been said.”

Son of a gun,
This wasn’t fun.
Now we’re singin’ ‘bout where we’re from,
Son of a gun.

Yeah, from the red dirt ground to the settin’ sun,
We’re still standin’ proud — son of a gun.

Son of a Gun

Frankie Ballard's new album El Rio is out now! Get it on iTunes - http://smarturl.it/elrio

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