Z's Iron Post Fireworks

Lyrics

Verse 1 Gravel turns to dust on Iron Post Road, Fourth of July and Momma's in full mode. Flag on the porch, she's up before dawn, Deep country quiet, just a meadowlark song. No city lights for twenty miles around, She smiles and says, "boy, listen for that sound." Verse 2 Two hundred fifty summers since '76, Farmers, teachers, kids with skinned-up kicks. We ain't perfect, but we're still here, Still chasing freedom year after year. From the first spark to the last big boom, We learned to find home in a loud backyard tune. Chorus Light 'em up at Z's Iron Post Fireworks, Red white blue in the black velvet dark. Neighbors in lawn chairs, hands on hearts, When that first rocket climbs, everybody sparks. Momma leans back with a tear in her eye, We count to three and we paint the sky. Light 'em up, let the whole block sing, At Z's Iron Post, on the Fourth of July. Verse 3 She's waited all year for this one night, Says the pops and the whistles make everything right. No fancy lake, no big city show, Just a pasture, a road, and the folks we know. She taught us loud don't have to mean mean, Sometimes loud just means "we're free." Verse 4 Headlights line up down Iron Post slow, Trucks in the ditch where the wild rye grows. Neighbors from town and the farms down the bend, Kids spill out back with sparklers to spend. Blankets on the pasture, everybody finds ground, Whole county goes quiet when Momma walks around. Chorus Light 'em up at Z's Iron Post Fireworks, Red white blue in the black velvet dark. Neighbors in lawn chairs, hands on hearts, When that first rocket climbs, everybody sparks. Momma leans back with a tear in her eye, We count to three and we paint the sky. Light 'em up, let the whole block sing, At Z's Iron Post, on the Fourth of July. Verse 5 Little ones with popsicles stained blue, Asking "how high do you think that one flew?" Grandpa says "son, higher than '45," We laugh 'cause we know what he means inside. It's not about the boom, it's who you're beside, When the night turns gold on the county line. Verse 6 Two-fifty candles on a cake so wide, Every state, every story, every small-town pride. We thank the ones who lit the fuse before, And the mommas who still save us a chair for more. If freedom's a song, then let it ring true, From Iron Post in Oklahoma, straight up to you. Final Chorus – everybody in Light 'em up at Z's Iron Post Fireworks, Red white blue in the black velvet dark. Neighbors in lawn chairs, hands on hearts, When that last shell falls, nobody parts. Outro So Momma, this one's for you, We strike the match 'cause you taught us to. One more spark down Iron Post Road, Thank God we're home, thank God we're close.