Tekst:
Montgomery Gentry Carrying On

A bar room or a bedroom back at home I feel a cold one comin' on A bar room or that bedroom back at home I feel a cold one comin' on

's hell-bent on saving me Lord, you may not remember me I sang in church when I was three It's been a while since I called on you could you tell her

Straw packed shirt and blue jeans Hangin' in the wind There's never time for these bones to mend Up before the sun dries The frost on my fields I've

Some kids grow up on mean streets Dealing with the crypts and bloods But me, I was born on a back road In a 4x4 rollin' through the mud The street kid

I'm not one to whine or cry or wallow in self-pity I take life in stride and smell the roses when I can I am one of those lucky guys who's happy just

anyone else to approve 'Cause the blood in these veins is tried and true I left home at sixteen with a guitar on my back With everything I called my own I carried

's my right We just love what we're doing You can hear it in our songs We ain't gonna break Ain't gonna bend We're just carrying on It's a sign of

ridin' their mules and leading their hounds Down to my place They holler "Hey son" have you got a drank Gonna make it hard on you if you ain't I'd grin

she's hell-bent on saving me Lord you may not remember me I sang in church when I was three It's been a while since I called on you But could you tell