Where the tall pines grow
Well, the sun comes up over the cotton fields,
And the morning dew is shining.
Got an old pair of boots by the back porch door,
And a hound dog on the whining.
There’s a gravel road that runs out back,
Past the fields and the old fence line.
And I can hear that rooster crow,
As the morning sun starts to shine.
Where the tall pines grow and the cool creek runs,
Where the days are long and you work for your money.
Where the old folks sit on the front porch swing,
And the radio plays those songs we sing.
Give me a rod,
give me a reel,
Give me a little country road to feel.
I was born down South,
and it’s all I know,
And I’ll spend my days
where the tall pines grow.
There’s a fishing hole down by the bend,
Where the water runs dark and deep.
Me and my daddy would sit for hours,
While the world fell fast asleep.
He’d tell me, “Son,
you can travel far,
See the cities and the lights.
But there’s something ‘bout a country home That’ll make your whole life
right.”
Where the tall pines grow and the cool creek runs,
Where the days are long and you work for your money.
Where the old folks sit on the front porch swing,
And the radio plays those songs we sing.
Give me a rod,
give me a reel,
Give me a little country road to feel.
I was born down South,
and it’s all I know,
And I’ll spend my days
where the tall pines grow.
Come November, when the mornings turn cold,
And the leaves start falling down,
You’ll find me walking through the deer woods,
Far outside that little town.
With the smell of pine and the frost on the ground,
And the sun coming up through the trees,
There’s a kind of peace in the great outdoors That puts a
restless heart at ease.
One day these boots might wear right through,
And this old truck might quit.
But I’ll still have those memories Of the life I wouldn’t trade
a bit.
When my time has come to leave this place,
And the evening shadows grow,
Just lay me down beneath the Carolina pines,
Where the gentle south winds blow.
Where the tall pines grow and the cool creek runs,
Where the good Lord’s blessings shine down on everyone.
Where the old folks sit on the front porch swing,
And the church bells ring on a Sunday morning.
Give me a rod,
give me a reel,
Give me a simple life that’s real.
I was born down South,
and it’s all I know,
And I’ll spend my days where the tall pines grow.
Yeah, I’ll spend my days Where the tall pines grow.
On a little dirt road That leads me home.