red

Red I'm talking 'bout the sun coming up and the sun going down On a John Deere, turning up a hard work check Making that blue collar country boy's neck Red I'm talking 'bout the color of them jerseys on a Friday night At the end of another long, hot, dry summer 'Tween the dust and the rust, the trucks are half covered in red Like a bloodhound Tracking some whitetail buck down I ain't talking politics, I'm talking small town And if you're from one, you know what I'm talking 'bout It's everywhere, I swear, from the courthouse bricks To a crushed Bud heavy can fading in the ditch Like the book of John, like a barn door And hearts your hand's over 'cause you're thankful for Every shipped off soul that was born to fight For a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red Red I'm talkin' 'bout a county line stop sign full of birdshot The cup your beer's in sitting 'round a fire Like your bank account when you bought them tires That led You down a dirt road and got some red lips leaning 'cross the console I ain't talking politics, I'm talking small town And if you're from one, you know what I'm talking 'bout It's everywhere, I swear, from the courthouse bricks To a crushed Bud heavy can fading in the ditch Like the book of John, like a barn door And hearts your hand's over 'cause you're thankful for Every shipped off soul that was born to fight For a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red It don't matter who you are, got your back if that's what you need 'Cause at the end of the day Hey, we all bleed Red I ain't talking politics, I'm talking small town And if you're from one, you know what I'm talking 'bout It's everywhere, I swear, from the courthouse bricks To a crushed Bud heavy can fading in the ditch Like the book of John, like a barn door And hearts your hand's over 'cause you're thankful for Every shipped off soul that was born to fight For a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red Yeah, a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red Yeah, a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red