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I can see the sun falling down.

The fields are clear with night.

Alcohol is pulsing in the hearts.

Uplifting the creatures in their songs.

Strung out, my eyes ascend into grey.

Swim towards ancient sleep.

Tradition in the southern sky.

1864 I'm hollow in decaying oak (Resting).

Only ghosts remain to comfort (That's Right).

The river is cold with dark.

Thank god I'm here.

Tradition in the southern man.

Whiskey forced through a shotgun hallway.

I'm blessed to know where I'm from.

I am born.

Inherited by the southern heat.

I can see the moon falling down.

Moonshine, Fire, and meat prepare.

Tradition in the southern sky.

Tradition in the southern death.

Tradition in the southern man.

I know where I’m from.

Whiskey, Fire, blood, and sweat.

Tradition under the southern sky.