My Roots

Spent all of my summertime by the lakeside we were camping Dad would fish the Buffalo catchin' Brookies in the hatches Never thought I'd see a day that I'd be missin' home Find myself needin' that feeling think it's time that I should go Headed back to my boots Back to my roots Back to my old guitar Headed back to my friends Together again Back to that old backyard Talkin bout what we used to do All the trouble we got ourselves into Kickin up dirt 'hind the old white church With all that I've learned I'm making my way back to you Took a little river ride as the sun tucked in the mountains Passed a couple moose while they were grazing in the grasses Didnt think we'd make it home as dark came creepin' in Now we all sit reminiscing bout the good ole days again Headed back to my Boots Back to my Roots Back to my old guitar Headed back to my friends Together again Back to that old backyard Talkin bout what we used to do All the trouble we got ourselves into Kickin up dirt 'hind the old white church With all that I've learned I'm making my way Back to my Boots Back to my Roots Back to my old guitar Headed back to my friends Together again Back to that old backyard Talkin bout what we used to do All the trouble we got ourselves into Kickin up dirt 'hind the old white church With all that I've learned I'm making my way Back to my Boots Back to my Roots Back to my old guitar Headed back to my friends Together again Back to that old backyard Talkin bout what we used to do All the trouble we got ourselves into Kickin up dirt 'hind the old white church With all that I've learned I'm making my way back to you