Hollers On Fire

{acoustic

guitar strumming, slide guitar swell,

foot stomps}

Sun’s going down on a Friday night,

Loaded up the trucks,

everything feels right. Thirty-five mud tires,

lifted up high, Dust on the tailgate,

freedom in the sky.

Down a winding road where the creek runs deep,

Back in the Kentucky hills where the secrets sleep.

Engines start growlin’, everybody knows,

When the green flag drops,

it’s time to go.

{clean electric

guitar riffs, punchy kick drum} Throw it in four-low,

let that V8 sing,

Mud starts flyin’ like a wild spring fling.

Ain’t no pavement where we’re headed tonight,

Just horsepower, grit, and headlights.

{building snare rolls, prominent banjo}

We’re raising off-road rage in the hollers of Kentucky,

Throwing rooster tails, if you get stuck,

you’re outta luck.

Mud flying sky high,

everybody screaming loud, Country boys and country girls making this town proud.

From the creek beds to the mountain trails,

Every engine roars and every heartbeat sails.

We’re living wide open,

ain’t afraid of the fight,

Off-road rage in Kentucky tonight!

{huge double-tracked vocals, warm organ swell} Winch on the bumper,

tow straps in the bed,

Never backin’ down, full throttle ahead.

Old square-body Chevy, Jeep beside a Ford,

Everybody chasing that checkered board.

Clay on the windshield,

mud on the doors,

Can’t even tell what color it was before.

Laughing with our buddies around the firelight,

Telling tall tales till the morning’s light.

{backwoods percussion, relaxed electric guitar licks} It ain’t about the money or

a shiny new ride,

It’s about the friends standing right by your side.

If you bury it deep,

we’ll pull you free,

That’s the way it’s always gonna be.

{intimate acoustic breakdown, raw fiddle melody} We’re raising off-road rage in the

hollers of Kentucky, Engines rumble loud and the whole world’s muddy.

Bonfire burning while the stars shine bright,

Living country proud on a Saturday night.

We’ll keep these tires spinning till the break of dawn,

Long after every city light is gone.

This is our home where the wild hearts stay,

Off-road rage—we’re gonna ride all day!

{maximalist anthemic country, massive harmonies} Mud on our boots… dirt on our

souls… Kentucky hollers… where freedom rolls.

{guitar ringout, single foot stomps

fading}