Sing a song about the Heartland When you hear twin fiddles and a steel guitar You're listenin' to the sound of the American heart And opry music on a Saturday night Brings a smile to your face and a tear to your eye The only place I feel at home Sing

This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore Though the truth may vary Don't listen to a word I say The screams all sound the same Hey! Hey! Hey! 'Cause though the truth may vary I don't like walking around this old and empty house So hold my hand, I'll

This is my last goodbye I could lose myself I could curse like hell But I've lost the will to even try If you ever doubt Listen to the sound Long before you're rusted chains

This river is wild Listen to the sound of the world Don't watch it turn Lets you go I never did get along with everybody else But you know I could stay here And watch the clouds fall from the sky Godspeed ya, boy

Not everything is always black or white Sometimes we're living in the gray Living in the gray You got something to say? Should I wait and listen? Sounds unfocused to me, and your heart is missing Cold, stubborn, and so vain, With every breath you're

Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, woh-oh, hey Ring the alarm, another sound is suffering, woh-oh, hey Listen this sound it a champion Ram the dance inna any session Tee ta toe we beat them all in a row Four big sound inna one big lawn Ring the

She can take it back, she will take it back some day Her love rains down on me easy as the breeze I listen to her breathing it sounds like the waves on the sea I was thinking all about her, burning with rage and desire We were spinning into darkness the

The sound that you're listenin' to Is from my guitar that's named Lucille I'm very crazy about Lucille Lucille took me from the plantation Or you might say brought me fame I don't think I can just talk enough about Lucille Sometimes when I'm blue it's

I will make my home here Know I was fine before, fine before, fine before My feet ever slow The age that takes me I'll slip out to the mountains Where nobody knows me Do you ever listen Did you know that We could make sounds?

The big man arrives Disco dancers greet him Plainclothes cops greet him Small town, big man, fresh lipstick glistening Sophomore jive From victims of typewriters The band sounds like typewriters The big man he's not listening His eyes hold Edith