Lyrics

Back Roads

You can get to Birmingham in three hours flat
The interstate is nice and straight -- made to do just that
Put yourself on cruise control
It’s a drive that ain’t got no soul

But if you don’t mind my saying, there’s another route
Where 3-D Norman Rockwell scenes are right in front of you
Young kids sellin’ lemonade
Old folks sittin’ in the shade

On the back roads – life comes into view
On the back roads – folks are waving back at you
You got cotton and tobacco
Cattle and barbed wire
Rusty ol’ tin roofs
And hound dogs nippin’ at your tires
Oh, don’t you know I’d rather go on the back roads
On the back roads

You got farmers on their tractors haulin’ fresh cut hay
Ridin’ way up high, leavin’ trails of muddy clay
Stop off at a produce stand
For sweet corn and homemade jam

And when the sun is sinkin’ low, roll your windows down
Listen to the crickets and the banjo pickin’ sounds
They’re tappin’ toes and slappin’ knees
At Friday evening jamborees

On the back roads –life comes into view
On the back roads – folks are waving back at you
You got cotton and tobacco
Cattle and barbed wire
Rusty ol’ tin roofs
And hound dogs nippin’ at your tires
Oh, don’t you know I’d rather go on the back roads
On the back roads

(Instrumental interlude)

CHORUS

Will Hopkins (615) 708-1950
Donna DeSopo
Copyright 2004