[Verse 1]
My first rifle was a .243
That Papa gave Daddy and Daddy gave to me
And they taught me how to shoot with a steady hand
I guess that's something you don't understand

[Verse 2]
Now I grew up on a prison farm
Sneakin' pulls of shine from a Mason jar
Used to go fishin' out Pickle Creek Dam
But I guess that's somethin' you don't understand

[Chorus]
And grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's done passed on
We sit out on the front porch
Just a pickin' on a song
And there's blood on the table
'Cause we work for what we have
And I was raised in this land
I guess that's somethin' you don't understand

[Verse 3]
I still fly that Southern flag
Whistlin' Dixie loud enough to brag
And I know all the words to Simple Man
I guess that's somethin' you don't understand

[Verse 4]
I pledge my allegiance the original way
Say "Merry Christmas" not "happy holidays"
I can't change my ways I know who I am
I guess that's somethin' you don't understand

[Chorus]
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's done passed on
We sit out on the front porch
Just a pickin' on a song
And there's blood on the table
'Cause we work for what we have
And I was raised in this land
I guess that's somethin' you don't understand

[Verse 5]
They'll grind us up in a big machine
They'll feed us all on the same beliefs
For the dollar and a credit card
But we got a way of doin' things
And no banker's gonna steal from me
They wanna tear it all apart

[Chorus]
Grandma's in the kitchen
And Papa's done passed on
We sit out on the front porch
Just a pickin' on a song
And there's a Bible on the table
'Cause He bled for what we have
And that's the ballad of a Southern man
I guess that's somethin' you don't understand

[Outro]
My first rifle was a .243
Papa gave Daddy and Daddy gave to me