Backwoods and a Rifle

Mud on my boots, a hole in my jeans,

Truck bed loaded with yesterday's dreams.

Crows on the wire, sky painted in rust,

Out here, a man builds a life on trust.

Backwoods and a rifle, that's all I need,

A faithful dog and a bag of seed.

Where the world don't reach, and the air runs clean,

Backwoods and a rifle, living the dream.

Saw blade singing through timber and pine,

Sweat-streaked hands carve a future in time.

Mama's old Bible, pages worn thin,

This dirt's my altar, this life my sin.

Ain't no city lights, no concrete ties,

Just stars to guide and a coyote's cries.

Backwoods and a rifle, that's all I need,

A faithful dog and a bag of seed.

Where the world don't reach, and the air runs clean,

Backwoods and a rifle, living the dream.

The hills whisper secrets the wind won't tell,

Each creek runs deeper than a wishing well.

Out here, the silence is loud as a bell,

It’s heaven and hell, heaven and hell.