“Backroads and Sundays” is a heartland rock anthem full of grit, soul, and longing. With its roots in small-town memories and working-class spirit, the song tells the story of growing up where every road holds a memory and every Sunday feels like home. Driven by rhythmic piano, soulful saxophone, and raspy, passionate vocals, it blends Americana warmth with the raw energy of classic rock. The lyrics paint vivid scenes of porch lights, tailgate nights, and dreams etched into gravel roads — a journey of pride, loss, and timeless belonging.

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[Lyrics]
Just a rusted sign at the edge of town,
One gas pump, and the diner’s brown.

Born and raised where the rail line ends,
We knew every face, called ‘em blood and friends.
First kiss behind the feed store wall,
Radio loud, chasing dreams so tall.
Mama’s voice through a screen door night,
Dinner hot and the porch light bright.

We were kings of nowhere, with dust on our boots,
Chasin’ loud hearts and faded truths.

Backroads and Sundays raised me right,
Saxophone wind and firelight nights.
Never needed fame to feel alive,
Just a beat-up truck and a backroad drive.
Backroads and Sundays, still runnin’ strong,
That small town keeps me holdin’ on.

Dad swung steel with a quiet pride,
His story lived in the sweat he’d hide.
Friday nights we’d howl like hell,
Under stars, no plan, no farewell.
Scraped our dreams on gravel and tar,
Told ourselves we’d make it far.

We were kids with fire and nothin’ to lose,
Wrote our future in worn-out shoes.

Backroads and Sundays raised me right,
Tailgate choirs and neon lights.
Never needed gold to make me whole,
It runs through my veins, deep in my soul.
Backroads and Sundays, still runnin’ strong,
That small town keeps me holdin’ on.

Now I’m older, but I still drive slow,
Past the high school and the rodeo.
And I swear every wind that blows,
Carries echoes of old soul shows.

Backroads and Sundays raised me right,
Simple dreams and barefoot nights.
Wouldn’t trade that life for gold,
It runs through my blood, it’s all I hold.
Backroads and Sundays, hear my song,
That small town keeps me holdin’ on.

Backroads and Sundays raised me high,
Lightning hearts beneath twilight sky.
Ain’t no map can pull me free,
It’s stitched in my bones, it’s home to me.
Backroads and Sundays, I’ll never be gone,
That small town keeps me movin’ on.

Backroads and Sundays, where I belong.
A rusted sign the world passed by,
But it’s home – like the truth in a sky full of fire.

Rust & Dreams

Backroads and Sundays

Das Projekt KIRox startete im Juni 2024. Hier werden Songs mit KI (AI) erstellt. Die Textideen und -nachbearbeitung sind von mir selbst, und werden meist über ChatGPT erstellt. Die Songs werden anschließend über die Plattform von Suno.com generiert.

The KIRox project launched in June 2024. It creates songs using AI. I provide the lyrics and post-production, mostly via ChatGPT. The songs are then generated via the Suno.com platform.

KIRox findest du auch auf /You can also find KIRox on:
Spotify, Deezer, Apple Music and YouTube Music.

New tracks tagged #WorkingClassSoul