Burning Gas

Two-stroke, full choke, half tank, sun low
Early morning fog, pushin' off the dock
White walls, two-door, pedal down to the floor
Black vinyl top, watch the needle drop on it
I'm half-tired, yes-man, born and raised
Yeah
A.M., F.M., Jerry Cannon educated
That's right

Burnin' gas, jumpin' back on the dirt road
In a bay, ridin' waves like a rodeo
Little hometown, put a name on it
Little bit of heaven, raise a hell on it

Strike a match, leavin' tracks everywhere you go
Full speed, no shirt and a stereo
Working class, bust out backs
And all we had was burnin' gas

Small town, home crowd, music up loud
Moonshine, bonfire, any feel we could find
Watch those flames gettin' high up
Just wishin' we could freeze that time up

Burnin' gas, comin' back on a dirt road
In a bay, ridin' waves like a rodeo
Little hometown, put our name on it
Little bit of heaven, raise our hell on it

Strike a match, leavin' tracks everywhere you go
Full speed, no shirt and a stereo
Working class, bust out backs
And all we had was burnin' gas

No, it don't matter where you came from
If you're loud and proud, better raise those drinks up
'Cause when the sun goes down and the lights on
You can bet we'll be comin' alive
We're blacked out with the green lights
We're bansheeing with jewel lights
We're needle tipping on the red line
Sparks reach for that night sky
We're mapped out proud of where we came from
'Cause that's the stuff that we're made of

Burn gas up and back on the dirt road
In a bay, ridin' waves like a rodeo
Little hometown, put a name on it
Yeah, I wish the rays had been a hell on it

Track and match, leavin' tracks everywhere you go
Full speed, no shirt and a stereo
Working class, bust out backs
And all we had was burnin' gas

Was burnin' gas



Credits
Writer(s): Adam Cousins, Craig Brooks, Josh Setterfield
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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