Verse 1
Dust on the tires, guitar in the back,
Sun just risin' on a two lane track.
Mama's got a list, Daddy's on the phone,
Callin' cousins we ain't seen since they were grown.
Late July heat, radio hums,
Friday morning and the weekend comes,
From the hills to the plains, they're rollin' in,
Same last name, brand-new grin.
Pre-chorus
Could be a river bank, could be a county fair,
Could be Grandma's field or a town square,
Don't matter where the map drops a pin,
As long as family's there, it's home again.
Chorus
Every two summers, we all come around,
Six generations, boots on the ground,
Fiddle sing loud, guitar ring true
From Friday night laughs to Sunday adieu.
Different town, same old story told,
Young ones learnin' from the wise and old,
Yeah, time keeps roliin', but thing's true --
We get together every two years with you.
Verse 2
Great-grandpa's chair under a shade tree,
Tellin' war stories, slow and easy,
Kids run wild with popsicle grin,
Tryin' to keep up with their older kin.
Potluck tables, paper plates,
Secret recipes, debates on states,
Who lives where now, who married who,
Someone breaks out a tune or two.
Pre-chorus
When the fiddle starts to saw and cry,
Guitar strings lift us to the sky,
Hands start clappin', feet get loose,
A family band with nothing to lose.
Chorus
Every two summers, we all come around,
Six generations, boots on the ground,
Fiddle sings loud, guitars ring true,
From Friday night laughs to Sunday adieu,
Different town, same old storied told,
Young one learnin' from the wise and old,
Yeah, time keeps rollin', but one thing true --
We get together every two summers with you.
Bridge
Sunday morning, coffee strong,
Hugs last a little too long,
We say, "Don't wait so long next time,"
But we all know that two-year sign.
Pictures taken, promises made,
Till the next late summer sun breaks through,
We'll count the days till we're back with you.
Final chorus
Every two summers, like a heartbeat call,
Different places, but we answer all,
Six generations, hand in hand,
Build in love this family stands.
From July heat or August skies,
We carry this with us the rest of our lives,
Yeah, the road may wind, but, one thing's true --
We'll keep comin' back every two summers to you.
Outro
Fiddle fades, that guitar sighs,
Same blood, same roots, same lullabies,
See you soon, don't be a stranger too long ...
Every two summers, this is our song.
