| Song | My Town - Piano Intro |
| Artist | Montgomery Gentry |
| Album | My Town |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Written:Jeffrey Steele/Reed Nielsen | |
| There's a 'For Sale' sign on a big old rusty tractor. | |
| You can't miss it, it's the first thing that you see. | |
| Just up the road, a pale-blue water tower, | |
| With 'I Love Jenny' painted in bright green. | |
| Hey, that's my Uncle Bill, there by the courthouse. | |
| He'll be lowerin' the flag when the sun goes down. | |
| And this is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| Hey! | |
| Where I was born, where I was raised. | |
| Where I keep all my yesterdays. | |
| Where I ran off 'cos I got mad, | |
| An' it came to blows with my old man. | |
| Where I came back to settle down, | |
| It's where they'll put me in the ground: | |
| This is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| My town. | |
| There ain't much goin' on here since they closed the mill. | |
| But that whistle still blows ev'ry day at noon. | |
| A bunch of us still go down to the diner. | |
| I wonder if that interstate's still comin' through. | |
| Come Sunday morning service, at the Church of Christ, | |
| Well there ain't an empty seat to be found. | |
| And this is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| Where I was born, where I was raised. | |
| Where I keep all my yesterdays. | |
| Where I ran off 'cos I got mad, | |
| An' it came to blows with my old man. | |
| Where I came back to settle down, | |
| It's where they'll put me in the ground: | |
| This is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| My town. | |
| Well, I bought and painted up that rusty tractor. | |
| You can't miss it, it's sittin' right there in our yard. | |
| The County came and took that water tower, | |
| And that's Jenny, with a baby, in the car. | |
| Ah, we're off to Sunday service at the Church of Christ, | |
| And if we want a seat, we better leave right now. | |
| And maybe later, me an old T-roy will show you around, | |
| Our town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| Yeah, where I was born, where I was raised. | |
| Where I keep all my yesterdays. | |
| Where I ran off 'cos I got mad, | |
| An' it came to blows with my old man. | |
| Where I came back to settle down, | |
| It's where they'll put me in the ground: | |
| This is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| This is my town. | |
| (Na, na, na, na, na.) | |
| My town. |
| Written: Jeffrey Steele Reed Nielsen | |
| There' s a ' For Sale' sign on a big old rusty tractor. | |
| You can' t miss it, it' s the first thing that you see. | |
| Just up the road, a paleblue water tower, | |
| With ' I Love Jenny' painted in bright green. | |
| Hey, that' s my Uncle Bill, there by the courthouse. | |
| He' ll be lowerin' the flag when the sun goes down. | |
| And this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Hey! | |
| Where I was born, where I was raised. | |
| Where I keep all my yesterdays. | |
| Where I ran off ' cos I got mad, | |
| An' it came to blows with my old man. | |
| Where I came back to settle down, | |
| It' s where they' ll put me in the ground: | |
| This is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| My town. | |
| There ain' t much goin' on here since they closed the mill. | |
| But that whistle still blows ev' ry day at noon. | |
| A bunch of us still go down to the diner. | |
| I wonder if that interstate' s still comin' through. | |
| Come Sunday morning service, at the Church of Christ, | |
| Well there ain' t an empty seat to be found. | |
| And this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Where I was born, where I was raised. | |
| Where I keep all my yesterdays. | |
| Where I ran off ' cos I got mad, | |
| An' it came to blows with my old man. | |
| Where I came back to settle down, | |
| It' s where they' ll put me in the ground: | |
| This is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| My town. | |
| Well, I bought and painted up that rusty tractor. | |
| You can' t miss it, it' s sittin' right there in our yard. | |
| The County came and took that water tower, | |
| And that' s Jenny, with a baby, in the car. | |
| Ah, we' re off to Sunday service at the Church of Christ, | |
| And if we want a seat, we better leave right now. | |
| And maybe later, me an old Troy will show you around, | |
| Our town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, where I was born, where I was raised. | |
| Where I keep all my yesterdays. | |
| Where I ran off ' cos I got mad, | |
| An' it came to blows with my old man. | |
| Where I came back to settle down, | |
| It' s where they' ll put me in the ground: | |
| This is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| This is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| My town. |
| Written: Jeffrey Steele Reed Nielsen | |
| There' s a ' For Sale' sign on a big old rusty tractor. | |
| You can' t miss it, it' s the first thing that you see. | |
| Just up the road, a paleblue water tower, | |
| With ' I Love Jenny' painted in bright green. | |
| Hey, that' s my Uncle Bill, there by the courthouse. | |
| He' ll be lowerin' the flag when the sun goes down. | |
| And this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Hey! | |
| Where I was born, where I was raised. | |
| Where I keep all my yesterdays. | |
| Where I ran off ' cos I got mad, | |
| An' it came to blows with my old man. | |
| Where I came back to settle down, | |
| It' s where they' ll put me in the ground: | |
| This is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| My town. | |
| There ain' t much goin' on here since they closed the mill. | |
| But that whistle still blows ev' ry day at noon. | |
| A bunch of us still go down to the diner. | |
| I wonder if that interstate' s still comin' through. | |
| Come Sunday morning service, at the Church of Christ, | |
| Well there ain' t an empty seat to be found. | |
| And this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Where I was born, where I was raised. | |
| Where I keep all my yesterdays. | |
| Where I ran off ' cos I got mad, | |
| An' it came to blows with my old man. | |
| Where I came back to settle down, | |
| It' s where they' ll put me in the ground: | |
| This is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| My town. | |
| Well, I bought and painted up that rusty tractor. | |
| You can' t miss it, it' s sittin' right there in our yard. | |
| The County came and took that water tower, | |
| And that' s Jenny, with a baby, in the car. | |
| Ah, we' re off to Sunday service at the Church of Christ, | |
| And if we want a seat, we better leave right now. | |
| And maybe later, me an old Troy will show you around, | |
| Our town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, where I was born, where I was raised. | |
| Where I keep all my yesterdays. | |
| Where I ran off ' cos I got mad, | |
| An' it came to blows with my old man. | |
| Where I came back to settle down, | |
| It' s where they' ll put me in the ground: | |
| This is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| Yeah, this is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| This is my town. | |
| Na, na, na, na, na. | |
| My town. |