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• Artiste: Morgan Wallen
• Titre: Don't We
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Wouldn't trade this holler For a stone-cold million dollars My green all comes blue collar, and I'm all good with that This world's been changin' But these folks 'round here, they ain't been They all still windshield wavin' when they slow rollin' past We could live a little higher on the hog But I don't think that we'd be no better off Not everybody got that spot out in the forty Some ten-point buck they shot, hangin' like a velvet trophy Fridays and parkin' lots, outside of somewhere holy Not everybody likes this kind of life, but we do, don't we? Still workin' hard likе my daddy told me Still keepin' lowkey Still ridin' high behind thеm low beams If you write home about, there's nowhere you don't know me Not everybody thinks we got it made, but we do, don't we? It might be simple, but these two lanes, they my temple And that river rollin' gentle wash my worries away I used to hate it, but I travel lots of pavements And there ain't no better places as the end of the day So I pass the play and thank the Lord He put me here And pray that times like mine don't ever disappear Not everybody got that spot out in the forty Some ten-point buck they shot, hangin' like a velvet trophy Fridays and parkin' lots, outside of somewhere holy Not everybody likes this kind of life, but we do, don't we? Still workin' hard like my daddy told me Still keepin' lowkey Still ridin' high behind them low beams If you write home about, there's nowhere you don't know me Not everybody thinks we got it made, but we do, don't we? Yeah But we do, don't we? Not everybody takes off their hat Stands for the flag That them boys overseas got on they sleeve Not everybody dies where they born Takes a field full of corn And turns it into whiskey, say it with me Yeah, we do, don't we? Not everybody got that spot out in the forty Some ten-point buck they shot, hangin' like a velvet trophy Fridays and parkin' lots, outside of somewhere holy Not everybody likes this kind of life, but we do, don't we? Still workin' hard like my daddy told me Still keepin' lowkey Still ridin' high behind them low beams If you write home about, there's nowhere you don't know me Not everybody thinks we got it made, but we do, don't we? Not everybody got that spot out in the forty (But we do, don't we?) Fridays and parkin' lots, outside of somewhere holy Not everybody likes this kind of life, but we do, don't we?