Old-School Country

Intro

Oh-oh, yeah, uh-huh

(steel guitar hums)

Verse

Porch light on, my dog sleeps by the door

Old truck's got a dent, but she starts like before

Mama's got the coffee, Sunday paper on the stand

A pair of worn-out boots and a one-way plan

I learned to pray in a church with a wooden floor

Learned to dance in a barn when the band played more

I trade my city suits for denim and a tan

I keep my word like a promise, I'm an old-school man

Pre-chorus

There's a line you cross and you don't come back

You learn to steer by the landmarks, not the map

So I sing what I mean and I mean what I sing

Keep my troubles small and my memories big

Chorus

I'm old-school country, rollin' down that road, whoa-oh (whoa-oh)

Got a worn-out map and a load of stories to unload, yeah

I like my whiskey neat, and I love a simple plan

I'm old-school country, I do the best I can

I'm old-school country, I do the best I can

Verse

Met a girl in a neon-free café, she laughed like summer rain

Her mama warned her once to guard her heart and keep it sane

We danced on a sawdust floor, barefoot in the moon's light

But some promises are paper and some things quit the fight

She left with a suitcase and a letter tacked to the door

Said she had to find herself, and I ain't her anymore

So I fixed the fence, kept the porch light on, and learned to stand

A little bit broken, still an old-school man

Pre-chorus

Time teaches patience and it teaches grace

You can't always win but you can keep your place

So I tip my hat to the sorrow and the grin

Pour another memory, let the chorus in

Chorus

I'm old-school country, rollin' down that road, whoa-oh (whoa-oh)

Got a worn-out map and a load of stories to unload, yeah

I like my whiskey neat, and I love a simple plan

I'm old-school country, I do the best I can

I'm old-school country, I do the best I can

Verse

There's a little grave by the cottonwood, her name carved clean

I leave wildflowers every spring like some unseen routine

Neighbors wave from their pickups, kids still chase the creek

We all got our ways to mend the parts that leak

Sometimes I hitch a trailer to the back of time

Play a weathered two-step and drink to better lines

The radio croons a hymn that fits like an old shirt band

I tip my cap to morning and keep being that old-school man

Bridge

So if you find me on a tailgate, with the sunset in my hand

We'll toast to what stayed true and to every small good plan

No need for fancy words, no need to understand

Just pass the bottle, sing along, and take my hand

Chorus

I'm old-school country, rollin' down that road, whoa-oh (whoa-oh)

Got a worn-out map and a load of stories to unload, yeah

I like my whiskey neat, and I love a simple plan

I'm old-school country, I do the best I can

I'm old-school country, I do the best I can