S.R.S.(SOUTHERN SWEET SERENITY)

(mmmm-hmm) Red dirt on my bare feet,

front porch in the afternoon

Listening to the cicadas hum their dusty summer tune

Daddy had a tractor that he taught me how to drive

Down in Georgia, that's where I felt alive

Oh, the sweet tea's cold but the nights are warm

Safe in the shelter of a summer storm These deep southern roots

run down in the clay No matter where I go,

they won't fade away

Sundays at the chapel,

sweet potato pie

Watching sunset painters painting up the sky

Simple things we gathered,

lessons that we learned

Every single page of that old book we turned

Deep roots

in the clay

(fade away) Never gonna

fade

away