[Verse]
Hart, Michigan, where the frostbite clings,
Small town grind, but we dream like kings.
Cornfields stretchin', under snow it sings,
Steeple to the sky, where the church bell rings.
[Chorus]
Hart hustle, we rise through the storm,
Where the cold winds bite, but the fire is born.
Heart of Michigan, yeah it keeps us warm,
Small-town pride in our blood's the norm.
[Verse]
Dairy trucks roll and the apple crates stack,
Rust belt grind with that blue-collar knack.
Roots so deep, they’re hard to hack,
One light town, but we glow pitch black.
[Bridge]
Steel-toe boots stompin’ Main Street lanes,
Snowplow symphony, spitting salt on chains.
Granny’s pie crust savin’ all our pains,
Hart might be small, but its soul remains.
[Verse]
Coastline whispers by the silver lake’s edge,
Fields of bounty keep us over the ledge.
Harvest time peaks, trees blush their pledge,
Roots and wings, two sides of our wedge.
[Chorus]
Hart hustle, we rise through the storm,
Where the cold winds bite, but the fire is born.
Heart of Michigan, yeah it keeps us warm,
Small-town pride in our blood's the norm.