Raised On Chaos

Yeah, yeah (hmmmm)

Red dirt on the tires,

smoke in the air

Old town is quiet but we don't care Got a heavy wood

fire burning in the yard Backwoods living makes a young man hard

We riding high in the country clay

Work all night, sleep through the day (ride on) Keep the wheels

turning when the sun goes down Yeah we the kings of this

muddy ground

Two lanes running where the blacktop ends

Trading stories with my oldest friends Got the bass-pipe thumping in a

rusted gate

Counting blessings while the hour grows late

(ooh yeah) We riding high in the country clay

Work all night, sleep through the day (ride on) Keep the wheels

turning when the sun goes down Yeah we the kings of this

muddy ground

We don't need no bright lights

We just need these long nights (ahhh)

Just mud on the tires (hmmmm)

Keep the fire burning