Song: Dirt
Singer: Florida Georgia Line

You get your hands in it
Plant your roots in it
Dusty head lights dance
with your boots in it
You write her name on it
Spin your tires on it
Build your corn field, whiskey
Bonfires on it
You bet your life on it

It's that elm shade red rust clay
You grew up on
That plowed up ground
That your dad
Damned his luck on
That post game party field
You circle up on
And when it rains
You get stuck on
Drift a cloud back
Behind county roads
That you run up
The mud on her jeans
That she peeled off
And hung up
Her blue eyed
Summer time smile
Looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build
A 10 percent down
White picket fence house on this dirt

You've mixed some sweat with it
Taken a shovel to it
You've stuck some crosses and some painted
Goal posts through it
You know you came from it
And some day you'll return to

This elm shade red rust clay
You grew up on
That plowed up ground
That your dad
Damned his luck on
That post game party field
You circle up on
And when it rains
You get stuck on
Drift a cloud back
Behind county roads
That you run up
The mud on her jeans
That she peeled off
And hung up
Her blue eyed
Summer time smile
Looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build
A 10 percent down
White picket fence house on this dirt

dirt dirt dirt

You know you came from it
And some day you'll return to
This elm shade red rust clay
You grew up on
That plowed up ground
That your dad
Damned his luck on
That post game party field
You circle up on
And when it rains
You get stuck on
Drift a cloud back
Behind county roads
That you run up
The mud on her jeans
That she peeled off
And hung up
Her blue eyed
Summer time smile
Looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build
A 10 percent down
White picket fence house on this dirt

Makes you wanna build
A 10 percent down
White picket fence house on this dirt

You know you came from it
And some day you'll return to it