Dustin Lee Martin - Draw Your Own Line

My Great-Great-Grandaddy Callahan
Well, they say he was a street-fightin' man
Tougher'n nails, Irish as Hell, he made his money in the work camps
My Daddy was a tri-state Golden Gloves
Before I was born, for two years runnin'
He said "Always take the first shot, son, don't you let 'em see you comin'"

I was raised by the tough kind of people
Where you don't back down and you don't complain
Stand up for yourself, son, and it'll work out fine
Just keep your head up, boy, and draw your own line

My Papaw Martin was one of eleven kids,
He never drank much whisky, wouldn't' believe it if he did
He farmed cotton in that hot delta mudplayed Hank Willams songs and he prayed to Jesus
Granny Johnson lived through the Depression
Never once ashamed of being a Christian
She'd say, "Bless your heart" and "Lord, have mercy", the day she died, good God it hurt me, but

I was raised by the tough kind of people
Where you don't back down and you don't complain
Stand up for yourself, son, and it'll work out fine
Just keep your head up, boy, and draw your own line
Just keep your head up, son, and now it's gonna be just fine

Written by:
Dustin Martin

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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