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• Artiste: Ray Fulcher
• Titre: Dirt On It
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From the welcome signs and welcome mates To the scoring jeans and the Red Man caps County unmaintained, unnamed, unpaved Two-lane that you take when you wanna get away Want some Friday night Goodyears It's a way of life made way out here 'Cause we don't own it, we don't want it If there ain't a shade of red clay painted on it We hate white picket fences and shiny, new trucks We would barely see the green John Deere in the mud Man, way down here, we sure wasn't raised up on it If you couldn't find a little dirt on it See all over the doors To the hood to the dash to the damn floor boards You know, back in the day, all American made Burnt two-tone fade Detroit Chevrolets That only get washed when it rains They only get washed when it rains 'Cause we don't own it, we don't want it If there ain't a shade of red clay painted on it We hate white picket fences and shiny, new trucks We would barely see the green John Deere in the mud Man, way down here, we sure wasn't raised up on it If you couldn't find a little dirt on it You couldn't find a little dirt on it Ain't nothin' but a bunch of map-dot dust But man, that's just us 'Cause we don't own it, we don't want it If there ain't a shade of red clay painted on it We hate white picket fences and shiny, new trucks We would barely see the green John Deere in the mud Man, way down here, we sure wasn't raised up on it Man, way down here, we sure wasn't raised up on it If you couldn't find a little dirt on it If you couldn't find a little dirt on it I see it all over the doors To the hood to the dash to the damn floor boards