Old Ford’s Quiet Roar

Testo

just drove off the lot in my shiny new truck, Cost more than a house did when times were tough. GPS is talkin’, heated seats on low, Cruise control hummin’, push-button four-wheel drive is ready to go. It’s so damn quiet you can’t hear the world outside, Just another button waitin’ for the day it dies. (Chorus) But there’s something ‘bout my old Ford pickup money can’t buy, That long ol bench seat where my baby sat by my side. No power steering, so I feel every bump in the road, Locking hubs that never quit, solid as the day is old Same ol’ cassette tape, playin’ that high-school tune, Every mile I drive it, brings me back to my youth. (Verse 2) Windows rolled down, no fancy lights blindin’ the night, Just a simple lap belt holdin’ everything tight. Smell the campfires smokin’ on the beach down the way, Hear them crickets callin’ from the creek where we’d stay. No texts lightin’ up the dash, no voice tellin’ me to turn, the wind in my face, and that big ol’ V8 with oil to burn.. Door handle was a pair of vise grips I use to keep on the floor, Crank that little vent window when I wanted to smoke some more. (Verse 3) Cigarette lighter never charged a thing, seats stayed stuck in place, But that cab smelled like motor oil, sweat, and yesterday’s race No fancy gadgets, no backup cam, no touchscreens glow, Just me and that old pickup was the only place I know. (Chorus) Yeah, there’s something ‘bout my old Ford pickup money can’t buy, That long ol bench seat where my baby sat right by my side. No power steering, I could feel every bump in the road, Locking hubs that never quit, solid as the day is old Same ol’ cassette tape playin’ that high-school tune, Every mile I drive it, brings me back to my youth You can keep your quiet ride with all them bells and whistles, I’ll take the rattle, the squeak, and the way that old truck whistles. The New one might be perfect, but it just ain't the same My old Ford pickup knows every heartbreak, and every backroad game. (Final Chorus) There’s something ‘bout my old Ford pickup money can’t buy… The smell, the sounds and the memories of times past by. The sounds of simpler days still echoin’ in my ears I wouldn’t trade that old pickup for anything made this year Something ‘bout that old Ford pickup use to keep me up Takes me back to a better time When your identity was part of your truck