Letras
He likes his, coffee black first thing in the morning
A cup or two usually, gets him going
He puts on his boots and cranks up, that old '79
Weather man says there's a storm warnin'
Well he pulls down his hat and keeps his wheels'a rollin'
Chaising the dreams of a back forty kind of life
Well his claim to fame is a last name
On a dead end county road sign
He's got, callused hands and a callused heart
But that suits him just fine
Makin it day to day, working his life away
Tryin'a find a little piece of mind
Oooah, but that's his bloodline
There's a chair on a porch that his gran-daddy left him
Where he sits and ponders on, when things were different
When a man could keep what he earned with a little help from above
It's getting harder to make ends meet in the middle
Selling his life away, little by little
But something inside him says "Boy you don't ever give up"
'Cause his claim to fame is a last name
On a dead end county road sign
Yeah he's a, dying breed and every day it seems
He's only runnin' out of time
Makin it, day to day, working his life away
Tryin'a find a little piece of mind
Oooah, but that's his bloodline
Yeah it gets kinda tough sometimes around that blue collar
Holden onto his dreams and chasing down another dollar
But his claim to fame is a last name
On a dead end county road sign
And when he's dead and gone, he's gotta carry on
And the wounds he's gotta leave behind
Making it day to day, working his life away
Tryin'a find a little piece of mind
Ooooah, but that's his bloodline
Till it's carved on a stone all alone beneath the Georgia pines
That's his bloodline