BACK-ROAD COORDINATES [Intro — Acoustic Guitar, Banjo Roll, Driving Drums] Hey, hey! Put that phone away! We know where we're going! [Verse 1] Friday hit five, got the windows down, Tank full of gas, leaving this town. She said, “What's the address?” I said, “Girl, relax, I can get us there without an app.” There's a crooked old mailbox by a field of beans, A white church steeple and a John Deere green. Take a left where the blacktop turns to gravel and dust, If you hit that red barn, you've gone too far for us. [Pre-Chorus — Harmonies Building] I learned these roads before I learned to drive, Know every bend like the back of my mind. No little blue arrow telling me where to go, Just a half-tank of gas and a road I know! [Chorus — HUGE, FULL BAND] Put the screen in the pocket, turn the satellite down, We don't need no digital mapping to get us out of town! Where the only notification is the creek on the right, And the fiddle chasing shadows through the middle of the night. We just look for the barn with the rusted-out roof, Yeah, the dust on the tires is the only real proof. We're navigating life on a back-road code, Living miles away from the main road! Hey! Hey! We don't need no map to find our way home! [Post-Chorus — Banjo and Gang Vocals] Left at the church! Right at the creek! Past the old mill where the hound dogs sleep! No GPS, no bars, no load! We're riding by back-road coordinates! [Verse 2] She's laughing at me when I miss a turn, Says, “One of these days, you're gonna live and learn.” I said, “Baby, that shortcut's been here since '93, And that farmer's dog still remembers me.” We pass the ball field where I struck out twice, The gas station where we bought our first cherry ice. There's a faded town sign and a water tower, And a gravel-road sunset in the golden hour. [Pre-Chorus] I know where the pavement disappears, Where the old bridge rattles and the river runs clear. Let that phone keep searching for a signal to show, We've got everything we need on this road! [Chorus] Put the screen in the pocket, turn the satellite down, We don't need no digital mapping to get us out of town! Where the only notification is the creek on the right, And the fiddle chasing shadows through the middle of the night. We just look for the barn with the rusted-out roof, Yeah, the dust on the tires is the only real proof. We're navigating life on a back-road code, Living miles away from the main road! Hey! Hey! We don't need no map to find our way home! [Bridge — Half-Time Feel, Acoustic Guitar and Piano] Maybe someday they'll pave these roads, Put up new signs where the wild grass grows. Maybe that old barn will finally fall, But I'll still remember every turn and all. 'Cause you can't download the way home feels, Or save those summers in a set of wheels. Some things don't need a satellite above— Just a little dirt road and somebody you love. [Build — Drums, Banjo, Fiddle] So kill that screen! Let the good times roll! We've got a full tank and a free-world soul! [Final Chorus — Massive Country-Pop Anthem] Put the screen in the pocket, turn the satellite down, We don't need no digital mapping to get us out of town! Where the only notification is the creek on the right, And the fiddle chasing shadows through the middle of the night! We just look for the barn with the rusted-out roof, Yeah, the dust on the tires is the only real proof. We're navigating life on a back-road code, Living miles away from the main road! ALL VOCALS: No blue line, no turn-by-turn, Just a few wrong turns and a bridge we burned! No GPS telling us where to go, Just back-road hearts and a radio! [Outro — Banjo, Fiddle, Gang Vocals] Left at the church! Right at the creek! Home by midnight—or sometime next week! Hey! Hey! We're riding by back-road coordinates! [Final Acoustic Guitar Chord]
