Song parody of
Home
by Ike Drummond
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He was sittin'
In an old rocking chair
He was talking bout how time had passed so quickly
Son, you'll make mistakes
But there's beauty in the pain
There are times in life when it feels like you're part of a game
So go drive an old dirt road
And watch the sun turn to gold
Call your mamma on the phone
And spend your days at the fishin' hole
Grab your guitar and sing some songs about the heartache and pain
You better do it before the Good Lord calls you home
Well, he took a long breath
And then he looked me in the eye
He said son you can make a lot out of a little
You always reap what sow
Even when it's a hard row to hoe
And sometimes when it feels like there's no ending
So go drive an old dirt road
And watch the sun turn to gold
Call your mamma on the phone
And spend your days at the fishin' hole
Smell the breeze and watch the leaves as the fall comes rolling in
You better do it before the Good Lord calls you home
Son, I wish I could bottle time
But let me give some back to you
So go drive an old dirt road
And watch the sunset unfold
Call your mamma on the phone
And spend your days at the fishin' hole
Grab a beer and watch the stars shoot across the Carolina sky
You gotta do it before the Good Lord calls you home
You better do it before the Good Lord calls you home
He was sittin'
In an old rocking chair
He was talking bout how time had passed so quickly
Son, you'll make mistakes
But there's beauty in the pain
There are times in life when it feels like you're part of a game
So go drive an old dirt road
And watch the sun turn to gold
Call your mamma on the phone
And spend your days at the fishin' hole
Grab your guitar and sing some songs about the heartache and pain
You better do it before the Good Lord calls you home
Well, he took a long breath
And then he looked me in the eye
He said son you can make a lot out of a little
You always reap what sow
Even when it's a hard row to hoe
And sometimes when it feels like there's no ending
So go drive an old dirt road
And watch the sun turn to gold
Call your mamma on the phone
And spend your days at the fishin' hole
Smell the breeze and watch the leaves as the fall comes rolling in
You better do it before the Good Lord calls you home
Son, I wish I could bottle time
But let me give some back to you
So go drive an old dirt road
And watch the sunset unfold
Call your mamma on the phone
And spend your days at the fishin' hole
Grab a beer and watch the stars shoot across the Carolina sky
You gotta do it before the Good Lord calls you home
You better do it before the Good Lord calls you home
