Lee Bains Iii & The Glory Fires The Red, Red Dirt Of Home
Sundays, Daddy'd carry me to Grandmama's house
Allman Brothers up, windows down
And I'd sing pining songs to the pines lining that blacktop road
Now we're driving through Tennessee
In memory of Ruel Bains and Liz Reed
And my Daddy's back home, got our record on the stereo
I've got a pastel postcard of my Savior on my dash
I've got my Mama and Daddy on speed dial in my phone
Lord knows I've got some pretty ghosts in my past
They've all got other men's diamonds on
And ground into the floorboard
Is the red, red dirt of home
Burning up oil, burning down cigarettes
Burning for a girl that ain't burned me yet
And we're burning down the Interstate under the sun's burning crown
And all this black air and white smoke
Are like brimstone in my throat
But we've got a valley to cross and miles before we're laid down
I've got a pastel postcard of my Savior on my dash
I've got my Mama and Daddy on speed dial in my phone
Lord knows I got some pretty ghosts in my past
They've all got other men's diamonds on
And ground into the floorboard
Is the red, red dirt of home
I pray that someday I will change
Find a sweet girl to bear my ring
And I'll sow my seed in the red, red dirt of home
But for now, I got this haint burrowed in my heart
Got these songs, this stage and this bar
And I'm going to shout, shout, shout till this mean old
Haint leaves me alone
I've got a pastel postcard of my Savior on my dash
I've got my Mama and Daddy on speed dial in my phone
Lord knows I got some pretty ghosts in my past
They've all got other men's diamonds on
And ground into the floorboard
Is the red, red dirt of home
