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Well, we grew up down by the railroad tracks |
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Shootin' B.B's at old beer cans |
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Chokin' on the smoke from a Lucky Strike |
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Somebody lifted off his old man |
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We were football flunkies, southern rock junkies |
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Crankin' up the stereos |
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Singing loud and proud to 'Gimmie Three Steps' |
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'Simple Man' and 'Curtis Lowe', we were good ya know |
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Got some discount knowledge at the Jr. College |
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Where we majored in beer and girls |
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It was all real funny till we ran out of money |
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And they threw us out into the world |
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Yeah, the kids that thought they'd run this town |
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Ain't a runnin' much of anything |
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Just lovin' and laughin', and bustin' our asses |
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And we all call it all livin' the dream |
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These are my people |
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This is where I come from |
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We're givin' this life |
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Everything we've got and then some |
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It ain't always pretty but it's real |
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It's the way we were made |
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Wouldn't have it any other way |
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These are my people |
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Well, we take it all week on the chin with a grin |
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Till we make it to a Friday night |
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And it's church league softball, holler about a bad call |
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Preacher breaking up the fight |
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Then later on at the Green Light Tavern |
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Well everybody is gathered as friends |
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And the beers a pourin' till Monday mornin' |
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And we start it all over again |
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And these are my people |
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This is where I come from |
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We're givin' this life |
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Everything we've got and then some |
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It ain't always pretty but it's real |
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It's the way we were made |
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Wouldn't have it any other way |
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These are my people |
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We fall down and we get up |
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We walk proud and we talk tough |
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We got heart and we got nerve |
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And even if we are a bit disturbed |
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Ooh, come on |
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These are my people |
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This is where I come from |
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We're givin' this life |
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Everything we've got and then some |
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It ain't always pretty but it's real |
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It's the way we were made |
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Wouldn't have it any other way, oh, no |
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These are my people, yeah |
