Bloodline and Bad Roads

My daddy left me two things: A broken gun and how to sing. Taught me right but lived all wrong, Now his ghost hums through every song.

Got my mother’s stare, my brother’s pride, Dust in my teeth and sin inside. Every mile I ride, I know — I was born where the wild winds blow.

Bloodline and bad roads, That’s all I ever owned. Built my bones from what I owed, And I still ride alone. Bloodline and bad roads, No mercy carved in stone. Yeah, I was raised where thunder spoke, And I made that voice my own.

Some men pray, some men run, Me — I talk straight to the sun. If heaven listens, that’s on Him, I’m just tryin’ to wash this sin.

Whiskey burns, the truth burns worse, Every blessing feels like a curse. But I keep goin’, head held high, Born to burn, not to die.

They say the road don’t owe you much — But it sure as hell remembers your touch.

Bloodline and bad roads, Running through my veins. Every scar’s a map I wrote, Every mile’s the same. Bloodline and bad roads, Still calling out my name. And if the reaper wants his toll — He better bring his aim.

Bloodline and bad roads, I’ll ride till wheels give way. Can’t bury men like me too deep — We rise with break of day. Bloodline and bad roads, That’s how I was made.

“This road raised me… and it ain’t done yet.”

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