(Verse 1)
Granddaddy’s rocking in that old wooden chair,
Telling stories like they’re floating through the air,
Mama’s in the kitchen, singing gospel low,
While the summer breeze makes the curtains roll.
Daddy’s laughing loud by the old truck’s hood,
Talking ’bout the hard times that turned out good,
And the kids are running barefoot through the yard,
Not a worry in the world, not a care in their hearts.
(Chorus)
It’s front porches and brass bands,
Holding tight to the ones we can,
Sunday dinners, folded hands,
Living life the best we can.
From Alabama roads to New Orleans nights,
Family’s the song that gets us by,
And no matter where this old world takes me,
Home is where my family will be.
(Verse 2)
Poppy used to preach with a fire in his soul,
Said, “Love each other, that’s the greatest goal,”
And I still hear his voice when the trumpets play,
Like he’s walking right beside me every day.
My brothers stand strong through the highs and lows,
Mama’s love is something everybody knows,
Daddy’s still my hero, always will be,
They’re the roots of the woman I’ve grown to be.
(Chorus)
It’s front porches and brass bands,
Holding tight to the ones we can,
Sunday dinners, folded hands,
Living life the best we can.
From Alabama roads to New Orleans nights,
Family’s the song that gets us by,
And no matter where this old world takes me,
Home is where my family will be.
(Bridge)
Let that trumpet cry and that fiddle sing,
About the love that money never brings,
‘Cause the richest folks ain’t the ones with gold,
They’re the ones with family to hold.
(Final Chorus)
It’s front porches and brass bands,
Holding tight to the ones we can,
Through the laughter and the tears we’ve cried,
They’re the reason we survive.
From Alabama roads to New Orleans nights,
I carry their love through all my life,
And when my time comes and I finally leave,
I’ll hear that family melody.