Philpot Dirt Roads

There's a quiet stretch of blacktop

Where the tall oak trees stand tall

Just a dot on map of blue grass Where the evening shadows

fall

Oh, Philpot, Kentucky,

you're calling me home

Underneath the wide open sky

No matter how far down

this highway I roam

Your gravel roads never run dry

(yeah, they never run

dry)

Passing by the old white chapel

Where the Sunday bells still ring

Hearing echoes from the front porch

As the cicadas start to sing

Oh, Philpot, Kentucky,

you're calling me home

Underneath the wide open sky

No matter how far down

this highway I roam

Your gravel

roads never run dry

(oh, home)

Sometimes the world

gets too loud and too fast

And I need to feel something that's built to last

Philpot, Kentucky...

My home...