Dirt Road in Georgia - Brent Cobb

Front doors closed and nobody’s home

I got trouble on my mind

Somebody’s been cheating

I’d rather be blind

Don’t bother looking

Naw you shouldn’t, I’ll be alright

But in case here’s some places you could try

I might be fishing with a pole made out of cane

I might be there at the hometown football game

I might be by a fire with a bottle and a six string

But if you know me best you know I’m probably

Down a dirt road in Georgia

As the leaves change colors

There still is another

And my eyes are calling for rain

How am I doing

Well I’d say the same old same

You say you miss me, would like to see me

Where have I been

You can keep on looking

When you get finished with him

I might be fishing with a Coleman and a cane

Or I might be there at the hometown football game

I might be camping just me and the fellas

But if you know me best you know I’m probably

If you know me best you know I’m probably

Down a dirt road in Georgia

If you know me best you know I’m probably

Down a dirt road in Georgia

In Georgia

Take me, take me home

To Georgia