Cold Brewed Heart

A long day on the farm, the sun is sinking low,

Sweat stains on my shirt, boots dusty from the road.

I look towards the barn, my old dog follows tight,

Looking for a cold one to chase away the night.

Stopped by the corner store, worn leather on my feet,

Jenny’s at the counter, smiling something sweet.

I pick up a six-pack, the finest they have brewed,

Raise a toast to simple times, and memories renewed.

Cracking open a beer, as the radio softly plays,

Johnny Cash and Hank Williams, taking me away.

With every sip, I’m drifting, under the stars so clear,

Finding comfort in the echoes, of this cold brewed heart, my dear.

Back porch swing is creaking, as the fireflies start to dance,

Moonlight on the prairie shines like a sweet romance.

The pastures are all quiet, the tractor’s put to bed,

I lean back with my beer, where these nights are always fed.

Neighbors drop by sometimes, with stories and laugh lines,

We talk about the weather, and the best old county times.

In every old-timer’s tale, there’s a flavor we all know,

That life’s a little sweeter when the beer’s nice and cold.

Cracking open a beer, as the radio softly plays,

Johnny Cash and Hank Williams, taking me away.

With every sip, I’m drifting, under the stars so clear,

Finding comfort in the echoes, of this cold brewed heart, my dear.