if this town could talk

summertime in dixie or fall out west, that light in arizona that's where it begins, 50 miles from dallas in a one horse town, that's got more soul than a preacher can count, every stop sign, every cotton field, every ball park with boys on the field, something 'bout the country most can't understand, it's the past not the present that builds the man, if this town could talk, it'd take a long, long walk, down an old dirt road, every miles a story in your mind, a stick on a map, of many shiners, if this town could talk, it just wouldn't be enough time, i was 17 in a four-wheel drive, a pretty brunette on my right hand side, from down the county line, how 'bout that sun cuttin' in these georgia pines, if i could see through the isles of old 221, i'd have a hell of a story 'bout the time i was done, it's where we're built, it's where we're raised, it's where we'll lay on our last day, if this town could talk, it'd take a long, long walk, down an old dirt road, every miles a story in your mind, a stick on a map, of many shiners, if this town could talk, it just wouldn't be enough time, it just wouldn't be enough time, if this town could talk, it'd take a long, long walk, down an old dirt road, every miles a story in your mind, a stick on a map, of many shiners, if this town could talk, it just wouldn't be enough time, it just wouldn't be enough time