County Road 13

Being Backwoods
Laugh at us all you want.
Truthfully were smarter than most.
We live from the land.
We work with our hands.
And not much of what we eat you buy in a can.
We raise our food.
We hunt for the meat.
And we don’t give a shit about your big city streets.
Some say we are stuck back in time.
Well I would not trade it for a dime.
No we don’t need glitter and shine.
This backwoods life, to me is just fine.
Country folk is what we are.
We make our own wine and our whiskey in a jar.
We sat out at night, by a dam old fire.
We still cook beans in a cast iron pot.
But the food that we eat.
Don’t taste like slop.
It does not come from a fast food shop.
Chinese you say well what is that.
To me it is another country, and I do not eat that crap.
Side meat, jowl bacon and sugar cured ham.
If you have never eaten it, you do not know what your missing man.
Homemade bread, with home made butter.
And milk that comes strait from the utter.
Back strap, dumbass it comes from a deer.
Man what the hell is your city ass queer.
Turtle soup that stuff is grand, beer in a bottle not that shit in a can.
There is a bible on my table.
There is a flag out front in my yard.
Backwoods is the simple life, but the work is hard.
But when you’re canning is all done.
You’re proud of what you got.
Cellar shelves are full.
Meat in the freezer.
Backwoods life is just much easier.
The hustle and bustle that you all dIll with
Is that fast city life that ain’t worth a shit.