Luke Combs - Growin' Up Lyrics
Doin This
Someone asked me once in an interview
"What was growing up like, where'd you go to school?
And what would you do if you weren't doin' this?"
I'd be drivin' my first car, an old worn-out Dodge
Tryin' to make rent with a dead end job, just makin' due
With tips in a jar, my guitar and an old barstool
I'd have a Friday night crowd in the palm of my hand
Cup of brown liquor, couple buddies in a band
Singin' them same damn songs like I am now
I'd be feelin' on fire on a hardwood stage
Bright lights like lightning runnin' through my veins
At the Grand Ole Opry or a show in some no-name town
I'd still be doin' this if I wasn't doin' this
I'd still be the same guy they knew back in the day
Who was burnin' CDs just to give away
Payin' his dues if I wasn't doin' this
Five deep in a van, head full of steam
Hot on the heels of my neon dreams maybe comin' true
Livin' this life just like I was born to do
I'd have a Friday night crowd in the palm of my hand
Cup of brown liquor, couple buddies in a band
Singin' them same damn songs like I am now
I'd be feelin' on fire on a hardwood stage
Bright lights like lightning runnin' through my veins
At the Grand Ole Opry or a show in some no-name town
I'd still be doin' this if I wasn't doin' this
It ain't about the fame
It ain't about the fortune
It ain't about the name
It ain't about the glory
I guess I'm sayin' it's always been about
Having a Friday night crowd in the palm of my hand
Cup of brown liquor, couple buddies in a band
Singin' them same damn songs like I am now
I'd be feelin' on fire on a hardwood stage
Bright lights like lightning runnin' through my veins
At the Grand Ole Opry or a show in some no-name town
I'd still be doin' this if I wasn't doin' this
Someone asked me once in an interview
"What was growing up like, where'd you go to school?
And what would you do if you weren't doin' this"
Writer: Drew Parker, Luke Combs, Robert Williford
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Any Given Friday Night
Boys shine their trucks at the Super Wash station
Spin them, Tire Wet wheels on the pavement
Done with that paycheck makin'
12 inch Kickers get shakin'
Them girls get to paintin' on denim and makeup
Pourin' Tito's in a Route 44 cup
In between city limit signs
On any given Friday night
Boys chase girls goin' thirty mile an hour
Circle up at the Dairy Queen
Later on, the wild gets louder
Like a rural route movie scene
In the nowhere dust, fallin' in love underneath an endless sky
Pick a map dot town
That's how it goes down
On any given Friday night
Ricky's at the red light, rockin' that Randall
Suzie's sittin' shotgun, drinkin' out the handle
Sight for sore small town eyes
On any given Friday night
Boys chase girls goin' thirty mile an hour
Circle up at the Dairy Queen
Later on, the wild gets louder
Like a rural route movie scene
In the nowhere dust, fallin' in love underneath an endless sky
Pick a map dot town
That's how it goes down
On any given Friday night
On Friday night
There's a fire in a field, a Jack and a Jill
Holdin' hands on a high hill side
Some gas in a tank, a Jenny and a Jake
On any given Friday night
Boys chase girls goin' thirty mile an hour
Circle up at the Dairy Queen
Later on, the wild gets louder
Like a rural route movie scene
In the nowhere dust, fallin' in love underneath an endless sky
Pick a map dot town
That's how it goes down
On any given Friday night
Pick a map dot town
That's how it goes down
On any given Friday night
Writer: Jonathan David Singleton, Luke Albert Combs, Randy Montana
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
The Kind of Love We Make
We've been burnin' both ends
Keepin' the lights on
So I've been thinkin' we need
A little time alone
So whatcha say we cancel our plans?
Tonight, I'm only gonna be your man
Let's get some candles burnin'
And some records turnin'
All the lights down low
Take it nice and slow
The way your body's movin'
Keep doin' what you're doin'
To me all night long
Writin' our love song
Girl, I want it, gotta have it
Let the passion take us to a higher place
Makin' the kind of love we make
Well, there ain't no way, baby
To get me out this house
When you look this good
What could I even think about? Oh
Besides turnin' round and lockin' the door
Watchin' your red dress fall to the floor
Let's get some candles burnin'
And some records turnin'
All the lights down low
Take it nice and slow
The way your body's movin'
Keep doin' what you're doin'
To me all night long
Writin' our love song
Girl, I want it, gotta have it
Let the passion take us to a higher place
Makin' the kind of love we make
Kind of love we make
So whatcha say we cancel our plans?
Tonight, I'm only gonna be your man
Let's get some candles burnin'
Some records turnin'
All the lights down low
Take it nice and slow
The way your body's movin'
Keep doin' what you're doin'
To me all night long
Writin' our love song
Girl, I want it, gotta have it
Let the passion take us to a higher place
Girl, I want it, gotta have it
Let the passion take us to a higher place
Makin' the kind of love we make
Kind of love we make
Makin' the kind of love we make
Writer: Daniel Paul Isbell, Jamie Davis, Luke Albert Combs, Reid Isbell
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
On the Other Line
Girl, I know you didn't mean it when you said that you were leaving
I just figured that you wanted your space
Of course I'm coming home, I'm out here on a boat
Putting around the lake
Didn't mean to start drama, of course I love your mama
And I promise that we'll have a date night
Go get your nails done and take your time, honey, I'm a little preoccupied
Well, I'll have to call you back, baby
These fish are biting like crazy
They're knockin' the paint off this crankbait every time
Feels like I'm reeling in an old bulldozer
Sorry honey, but I got to click over
I got a six pound largemouth on the other line
Yeah, I'll clean up the kitchen, I'll do the damn dishes
Baby, I'm wrong, you're right
I get the point your makin', believe me when I say it
Right now my hands are tied
So I'll have to call you back, baby
These fish are biting like crazy
They're knockin' the paint off this crankbait every time
Feels like I'm reeling in an old bulldozer
Sorry honey, but I got to click over
I got a six pound largemouth on the other line
Well, I'll have to call you back, baby
These fish are biting like crazy
They're knockin' the paint off this crankbait every time
Feels like I'm reeling in an old bulldozer
I know this conversation ain't over
I got a six pound largemouth on the other line
I got a six pound largemouth on the other line
Writer: Dan Isbell, James Mcnair, Luke Combs, Randy Montana, Thomas Archer
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Outrunnin Your Memory
You'd love this bar I stumbled on
They play George Strait and they pour their doubles strong
I've been gone for two weeks now
There's some missing you in every little town
Ain't sure what I thought I'd find riding these yellow lines
Outrunnin' your memory is like outrunnin' the wind
I can't get where I'm going if I can't leave where you've been
I see you in every sunset, every star in the sky
I hear you callin' my name in the middle of the night
The longer gone I get on down the road
Reminds me, baby, that there just ain't no
Outrunnin' your memory
I'm by myself but I'm not alone
'Cause you've been right here in this truck since San Antone
I bet you'll still be by my side
If I don't break down 'fore I make them LA lights
Been a thousand miles headed west and it's like I never left
Outrunnin' your memory is like outrunnin' the wind
I can't get where I'm going if I can't leave where you've been
I see you in every sunset, every star in the sky
I hear you callin' my name in the middle of the night
The longer gone I get on down the road
Reminds me, baby, that there just ain't no
Outrunnin' your memory
I ain't sure what I thought I'd find riding these yellow lines
Outrunnin' your memory (mm)
Outrunnin' your memory
I see you in every sunset, every star in the sky
I hear you callin' my name in the middle of the night
The longer gone I get on down the road (mm)
Reminds me, baby, that there just ain't no (that there just ain't no)
Outrunnin' your memory (outrunnin' your memory)
Outrunnin' your memory (outrunnin' your memory)
Outrunnin' your memory (outrunnin' your memory, outrunnin' your memory)
Writer: Dan Isbell, Luke Albert Combs, Miranda Lambert
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Used to Wish I Was
When I was fifteen I had running back dreams
But never did run too far
Thought I was gonna be number three one day
'Til I wrecked my old man's car
I almost finished college but I ain't cut from that cloth
Used to wish I was, but I'm glad I'm not
I'm just an ol' Carolina good ol' boy
Boys, I ain't got no choice
I pick a little guitar in the evenin'
Wear Mossy Oak outta deer season
I couldn't be anybody but me, even if I tried
I used to wish I was, but I'm glad I'm not
Used to have a Tennessee Bill Dance hat
But barely ever got 'em in the boat
I used to wanna hit 'em like Chipper did
But I swung it just a little too slow
Yeah, these days I don't wanna be anybody but me
I used to wish I was, but I'm glad I'm not
I'm just an 'ol Carolina good ol' boy
Boys, I ain't got no choice
I pick a little guitar in the evenin'
Wear Mossy Oak outta deer season
I couldn't be anybody but me, even if I tried
I used to wish I was, but I'm glad I'm not
I'm just an 'ol Carolina good ol' boy
Boys, I ain't got no choice
I pick a little guitar in the evenin'
Wear Mossy Oak outta deer season
I couldn't be anybody but me, even if I tried
I used to wish I was, but I'm glad I'm not
Yeah, I'm glad I'm not
Writer: Deric J. Ruttan, Jonathan David Singleton, Luke Albert Combs
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Spirit Music Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Better Back When
We snuck in the back of that college town frat
'Cause they wouldn't let us in the front
Threw their Miller Time keg in a Chevrolet bed
And we let them horses run
Cut a path through the grass yelling, "Kiss my ass!"
With a middle finger in the wind
We laughed, we drank, every now and then I think
Man, I'd love to do that again
Those were some good times
Those were the best nights
The freedom you feel when you're learning to fly
And the song on the radio was singing our lives
I can't say that the moon in the sky was shinin' any brighter than it is tonight
But it looked on fire back then
It probably wasn't, but it seemed a little better back when
Gravel lot spot by the porta johns
'Bout a quarter mile from the door
Worked three weeks for a pair of cheap seats
To hear "Never Wanted Nothing More"
We were feeling that buzz from a summertime love
And a bottle tucked in a boot
It's crazy to think that looking back now
But back then, we never knew
Those were some good times
Those were the best nights
The freedom you feel when you're learning to fly
And the song on the radio was singing our lives
I can't say that the moon in the sky was shinin' any brighter than it is tonight
But it looked on fire back then
It probably wasn't, but it seemed a little better back when
I ain't sayin' that right now ain't right where I wanna be
But I swear time adds a little shine to a long gone memory
Those were some good times
Those were the best nights
The freedom you feel when you're learning to fly
And the song on the radio was singing our lives
I can't say that the moon in the sky was shinin' any brighter than it is tonight
But it looked on fire back then
It probably wasn't, but it seemed a little better back when
It seemed a little better back when
Writer: Dan Isbell, Luke Albert Combs, Randy Montana, Ray Fulcher
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Tomorrow Me
Telephone rings, can I come over?
It's kinda just the way things go since we've been over
I know what you want and I want it too
The problem is what's wrong with it's the bigger issue
Tomorrow me ain't gonna like the way things go tonight
If I let you in and think that it'll be different this time
So maybe we should let yesterday be
'Cause I gotta live with tomorrow me
In the morning light I'll be the guy
Staring down "I told you so" for the hundredth time
And you'll be okay, you always are
And I'll be picking up the pieces if we go that far
'Cause tomorrow me ain't gonna like the way things go tonight
If I let you in and think that it'll be different this time
So maybe we should let yesterday be
'Cause I gotta live with tomorrow me
I know how it's gonna end
Just like it always ends
Yeah, tomorrow me ain't gonna like the way things go tonight
If I let you in and think that it'll be different this time
So maybe we should let yesterday be
Yeah, maybe we should let yesterday be
'Cause I gotta live with tomorrow me
Hey, tomorrow me
Writer: Dean Dillon, Luke Albert Combs, Raymond Morgan Lloyd Fulcher
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Aint Far From It
Give me a stone cold George Jones, whiskey bent, barstool night
I wanna fly like a honky tonk moth to that neon light
This highway burnin' me up blues been weighin' me down
There's a hole in the wall needs fillin' on the edge of town
I'm gonna floorboard that Ford straight toward my baby's house
She'll be shinin' like a million dollar diamond second she steps out
She'll be slippin' me sugar and buddy, she ain't gonna stop
'Til we Bonnie and Clyde slide into that parking lot
'Bout to light that fuse on a Friday night
Get to cuttin' loose on this wound up tight
Where twenty bucks buys guitars strummin'
Paychecks turn to cold beer buzzin'
All that leads to late night lovin'
We ain't there yet, but we ain't far from it
That Tele rippin' Mississippi, cover band's sure on point
She on the dance floor, good Lord, droppin' every jaw in the joint
When she flips that switch, I'm off like a rocket
Ain't no way to stop it
When we light that fuse on a Friday night
Get to cuttin' loose on this wound up tight
Where twenty bucks buys guitars strumming
Paychecks turn to cold beer buzzin'
All that leads to late night lovin'
We ain't there yet, but we ain't far from it
'Bout to light that fuse on a Friday night
Get to cuttin' loose on this wound up tight
Where twenty bucks buys guitars strummin'
Paychecks turn to cold beer buzzin'
All that leads to late night lovin'
We ain't there yet, but we ain't far from it
No, we ain't there yet, but we ain't far from it
Writer: Dan Isbell, Luke Albert Combs, Ray Fulcher, Reid Isbell
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Call Me
I know you're gonna call me an SOB
First class white trash from BFE
I know you're gonna call me every name in the book
Whatever makes you feel good
I know you're gonna call me out of your league
Tell all your friends I was a one time thing
Smoke a few smokes, drink a few drinks
And really tell 'em what you think
You're gonna call me crazy, a low down no account fool
And you're gonna say you hate me, girl, do what you gotta do
But when you're 2 AM buzzin', late night needing lovin'
And it's lookin' like you're leaving lonely
Baby, we both know you're gonna call me
Yeah, you wish I'd change and I wish I could
It's bad when it's bad, when it's good it's good
You love me and hate me and somewhere in between
I know my phone's gonna ring
And you're gonna call me crazy, a low down no account fool
And you're gonna say you hate me, girl, do what you gotta do
But when you're 2 AM buzzin', late night needing lovin'
And it's lookin' like you're leaving lonely
Baby, we both know you're gonna call me
Call me stubborn and hardheaded
Call me rough around the edges
I don't care what you call me
Just call me
You're gonna call me crazy, a low down no account fool
And you're gonna say you hate me, girl, do what you gotta do
But when you're 2 AM buzzin', late night needing lovin'
And it's lookin' like you're leaving lonely
Baby, we both know you're gonna call me
Oh, go on and call me
Writer: Jonathan Singleton, Luke Combs, Shane Minor
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Middle of Somewhere
There's just one kind of coffee at the Café
Couple kinds of beer at Amoco
Where hard work pays and Jesus saves
Weekends come and hell gets raised
Don't eat much, we can't hunt, fish, or grow
And we like life that way
Sweet and slow and simple
Ain't for much we pray
'Cause all we need's a little
So just remember when you're drivin' through nowhere
To us, that's the middle of somewhere
May look like some empty off the interstate
Place between where you've been and where you go
Folks 'round here, we call it home
From the cradle to the stone
We don't mind, it's all we've ever known
And we like life that way
Sweet and slow and simple
It ain't for much we pray
'Cause all we need's a little
So just remember when you're drivin' through nowhere
To us, that's the middle of somewhere
I know it's just another drop in the ocean of map dots
But it means more than the world to us
'Cause we like life that way
Sweet and slow and simple
It ain't for much we pray
'Cause all we need's a little
So just remember when you're drivin' through nowhere
So just remember when you're drivin' through nowhere
To us, that's the middle of somewhere
Out in the middle of somewhere
Writer: Jonathan David Singleton, Luke Albert Combs, Randy Montana
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Going Going Gone
Some things in life are meant to fly
And others, they were born to run
You can't tie down up and leaving
Like the changing of the seasons
Good things, they come and then they go
Like a runaway southbound train
Like an Arizona desert rain
Like lightning in the sky
Like fireworks in July
Like a left field home run ball
Like a whiskey shot at last call
It's like she was made for moving on
That girl is going, going, gone
I could say it wasn't meant to be
But maybe meant to be's misunderstood
Can't hold on to letting go
Change the way the river flows
Loving her's like roping in the wind
Like a runaway southbound train
Like an Arizona desert rain
Like lightning in the sky
Like fireworks in July
Like a left field home run ball
Like a whiskey shot at last call
It's like she was made for moving on
That girl is going, going, gone
She ain't got one bit of stick around
There's no sense in trying to slow her down
Like a runaway southbound train
Like an Arizona desert rain
Like lightning in the sky
Like fireworks in July
Like a left field home run ball
Like a whiskey shot at last call
It's like she was made for moving on
That girl is going, going, gone
Going, going, gone
Going, going, gone
Writer: James Mcnair, Luke Albert Combs, Ray Fulcher
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC