2 Live's

These pine tree's don't feel like the street lights I'm used to
The mud is softer then asphalt
No sirens make me a little un easy
Breathing fresh air
Makes me cough
No loud music
Just the crickets singing
Hearing my own thoughts
Is something strange
I'm used to beers
Talking shit with the boy's
Catching the latest game
Not big skies with stars

This concrete is to hard for you
More then one traffic light
Is one to many stops
You like music with a twang
These hard hitting beats
Are a little much
You wonder why people wear flat brims on there hat
You wonder if they've heard of a belt
And what does do work mean
These girls are little slutty for your taste
You're used to Porch swings looking over fields
The rooster waking you up
Not city lights blocking the stars


So let's meet half way
Between the city and the sticks