I’m from gravel roads

From corn fields and bean fields

Which were as far as you could see

From the farm and the good ole days

I’m from t-bone steaks and mashed potatoes

With the unforgettable smell

From the cows to the manure

The barn to the tree houses

The night games and the fighting

With my brother which still hasn’t changed

I’m from the fireworks at the fourth

From Alan Jackson and George Strait

On the country station

From the snowmobile to the tractors

The wrestling to football

From the Three Stooges and Zorro

At my grandpa and grandmas

From the sugar cookies and red baron pizza

I’m from the little town with

The one dollar movies and the wrestling camps

I’m from my grandpas death

To my two friends death

I’m from the cutting weight

And the working out

The sweat and the bloody noses

The black eyes and the sore muscles

The scratches and bruises

I’m from the wrestling tournaments

And the state championships

I’m from all of the ups and downs