It's a middle of nowhere, nobody comes here town

You're either born and raised and you stay or you turn right around

Podunk, court house, stop light blinking

Four wheels, corn fields, I know what you're thinking.

Who'd wanna live in this place

Who'd wanna suffer the fate

Of a life spent pulling a plow through the dirt

Who'd wanna put down roots in a blue collar suit

We do, and a few of us know what it's worth

A little buckshot dot on a map it might be

But it's the world to me.

I know these hollers and hills and fields down to every square inch

I know every name sprayed in dupont paint on that bridge

Had my first kiss, learned to shift gears on these back roads

All that and all of this makes me one of those.

Who'd wanna live in this place

Who'd wanna suffer the fate

Of a life spent pulling a plow through the dirt

Who'd wanna put down roots in a blue collar suit

We do, and a few of us know what it's worth

A little buckshot dot on a map it might be

Oh, but it's the world to me.

It's those friday night games

Billy's tavern on main

Where we got a cold beer after a hard day's work

It's who we are through and through

From our hats to our boots

It's the truth, and we all know what it's worth

A little buckshot dot on a map it might be

But it's the world to me.

Oh, the world to me.