Broken Windshield View

  A
I grew up here where there aint much
 blacktop,
G                     D
The headlights on the interstate 
dont stop.
A
Any man worth his weight plows a 
straight row,
G                        D
And all the money is the grain in 
the silo.

A
Theres just enough home grown pretty
 girls,
G                          D
Growin up around here that like to 
sip cold beer.
A
Its a blink and you miss it kinda 
town,
G*
The kind of place that makes the 
world go round.

A
My wheels have rolled all this red 
dirt,
G                 D
My hands have got scars from the 
hard work.
A
Me and my friends unwind on the 
outskirts,
G                       D
Our Friday nights might get a little
 black and blue.

A
Im out here ridin high on a lift 
kit,
G                         D
I see the world through a crack 
where a rock hit.
A
I am who I am, I do what I do,
G*                    D*
Lookin at life from a broken 
windshield view.

A G D

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A
A truck beds got a half roll of 
barbed wire,
G                   D
A bail of hay and a patched up spare
 tire.
A
Cross on a chain hangin from a rear 
view,
G                D
Fifth in a brown paper sack packing 
80 proof.

A
A sun droppin off into that 
cornfield,
G                     D
Thunderhead lightning comin right 
behind it.
A
These two lane roads aint paved in 
gold,
G*
Man flying gravels all I know.

A
My wheels have rolled all this red 
dirt,
G                 D
My hands have got scars from the 
hard work.
A
Me and my friends unwind on the 
outskirts,
G                       D
Our Friday nights might get a little
 black and blue.

A
Im out here ridin high on a lift 
kit,
G                         D
I see the world through a crack 
where a rock hit.
A
I am who I am, I do what I do,
G                     D
Lookin at life from a broken 
windshield view.

A  G    D
  Yeah, cmon

A G D

     A
Yeah its just a blink and you miss 
it kind of town,
G*                               
The kind of place that makes the 
D*
world go round.

A
My wheels have rolled all this red 
dirt,
G                 D
My hands have got scars from the 
hard work.
A
Me and my friends unwind on the 
outskirts,
G                       D
Our Friday nights might get a little
 black and blue.

A
Im out here ridin high on a lift 
kit,
G                         D
I see the world through a crack 
where a rock hit.
A
I am who I am, I do what I do,
G                     D
Lookin at life from a broken 
windshield view.
A
I am who I am, I do what I do,
G*                    D*
Lookin at life from a broken 
windshield view.
A G       D
    From a broken windshield view
A G D
  Yeah
A G D