Backroads

Driving down a back road with the radio on and the windows down
My mind is stuck in yesterday, but Shenedoah brings me back around
Singing Sunday in the South
The dogwoods say it's spring, magnolia's will soon be following, my heart
Along these back roads, past these broken fenceposts
Leading me home, it feels like home

The smell of the air is familiar now, it'&s cleaner here than anyplace I've found
As the days grow longer and the nights grow warm
The moon comes up, before the sun goes down
Along these back roads, in every small town there's at least 8 churches
We can't stop the changes, but our hearts remain
With stained glass windows, and it feels like home

It's springtime when the leaves come out
The flowers and the kudzu they all cover up the ground
I hear a breeze blowing cross the plains of Dixie
But that's the only sound

Driving down a back road with the radio on and the windows down
My mind is stuck in right now, and I can't stop singing Sunday in the South
The dogwoods say it's spring, magnolia's will soon be following, my heart
Along these back roads, in every small town you can stop for peaches
At little stands right by the side of the road, it feels like home
It feels like home