Riots in the Dirt

Backyard's a symphony, moss on the pines,

Grill smokin' brisket, stars start to shine.

Mud tracks lace the ground, boots caked in clay,

Dog howlin' at the moon, whiskey keeps me awake.

Front yard's a kingdom, diesel sittin' proud,

Trailers hitch dreams, we’re ridin' through the clouds.

From Seattle to the Gulf, the cowboy rides alone,

This land’s my saddle, my backyard’s my throne.

Cattle on the back 40, slow graze in the sun,

Creek whispers secrets, where the wild waters run.

Fence post a diary, carved names in the grain,

Every mile tells a story, every scratch leaves a stain.

The Gulf breeze hums, guitar strings cry,

Echo of the waves, paints the blue sky.

The cowboy’s got roots, deep in this dirt,

Every patch of grass, another lesson learned.

Front yard's a kingdom, diesel sittin' proud,

Trailers hitch dreams, we’re ridin' through the clouds.

From Seattle to the Gulf, the cowboy rides alone,

This land’s my saddle, my backyard’s my throne.

From the pines to the pasture, the Gulf to the rain,

The cowboy keeps movin', yet stays the same.

A story of the land, written in my drawl,

Grady blues on my tongue, I’m the king of it all.