Yeah I been running for a long time, catch me if you can
I been the Gulf Coast cowboy, the Louisiana plowboy, Nashville's wanted man
Rough necking turn me loose, and I came bucking out the shoot, writing nothing but the truth
With a blue-collar backwoods band
A little dirt road soul, redneck rock 'n' roll
And whole lotta who I am
Eighteen hours on four bald tires, a bunch of whiskey-bent pickers in a beat-up van
A-town by town, we spread this here sound all over the land
Somewhere between old Hank and big Bob Seger's where I make my stand
Now I'm the bucking boss, six-string Lane Frost still out here riding for the brand
Yeah I been learning for a long time running, rough shot and reckless
Old Skynyrd knows my name and I've sang and drank with Hank and two-stepped in Texas
But I made my own rule, kept all the control, still chopping out a hole
Most anytime I can
And getting round every Saturday night
And putting a few more miles on a music man
Eighteen hours on four bald tires, a bunch of whiskey-bent pickers in a beat-up van
A-town by town, we spread this here sound all over the land
Somewhere between old Hank and big Bob Seger's where I make my stand
Now I'm the bucking boss, six-string Lane Frost still out here riding for the brand
Who in it now?
Eighteen hours on four bald tires, a bunch of whiskey-bent pickers in a beat-up van
A-town by town, we spread this here sound all over the land
Somewhere between old Hank and big Bob Seger's where I make my stand
Now I'm the bucking boss, six-string Lane Frost still out here riding for the brand
