Red
I'm talking 'bout the Sun coming up and the Sun going down
On a John Deere, turning up a hard-work check
Making that blue-collar country boy's neck
Red

I'm talking 'bout the color of them jerseys on a Friday night
At the end of another long, hot, dry summer
'Tween the dust and the rust, the trucks are half covered in red
Like a bloodhound
Tracking some whitetail buck down

I ain't talking politics, I'm talking small town
And if you're from one, you know what I'm talking 'bout
It's everywhere, I swear, from the courthouse bricks
To a crushed Bud heavy can fading in the ditch
Like the book of John, like a barn door
And hearts your hand's over 'cause you're thankful for
Every shipped-off soul that was born to fight
For a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red
Red

I'm talkin' 'bout a county line stop sign full of birdshot
The cup your beer's in sitting 'round a fire
Like your bank account when you bought them tires
That led
You down a dirt road
And got some red lips leaning cross the console
I ain't talking politics, I'm talking small town
And if you're from one, you know what I'm talking 'bout
It's everywhere, I swear, from the courthouse bricks
To a crushed Bud heavy can fading in the ditch
Like the book of John, like a barn door

And hearts your hand's over 'cause you're thankful for
Every shipped-off soul that was born to fight
For a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red
It don't matter who you are
Got your back if that's what you need
'Cause at the end of the day
Hey, we all bleed
Red

I ain't talking politics, I'm talking small town
And if you're from one, you know what I'm talking 'bout
It's everywhere, I swear, from the courthouse bricks
To a crushed Bud heavy can fading in the ditch
Like the book of John, like a barn door
And hearts your hand's over 'cause you're thankful for
Every shipped-off soul that was born to fight
For a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red
Yeah, a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red
Yeah, a wind-torn flag that's blue and white and red