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You know I like my chicken fried |
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A cold beer on a Friday night |
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A pair of jeans that fit just right |
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And the radio up |
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Well, I was raised up |
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Beneath the shade of a Georgia pine |
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And that's home you know |
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Sweet tea, pecan pie and homemade wine |
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Where the peaches grow |
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And my house it's not much to talk about |
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But it's filled with love |
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That's grown in southern ground |
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And a little bit of chicken fried |
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Cold beer on a Friday night |
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A pair of jeans that fit just right |
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And the radio up |
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Well, I've seen the sunrise |
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See the love in my woman's eyes |
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Feel the touch of a precious child |
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And know a mother's love |
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It's funny how it's the little things in life |
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That mean the most |
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Not where you live or what you drive |
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Or the price tag on your clothes |
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There's no dollar sign on a piece of mind |
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This I've come to know |
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So if you agree, have a drink with me |
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Raise your glasses for a toast |
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To a little bit of chicken fried |
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Cold beer on a Friday night |
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A pair of jeans that fit just right |
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And the radio up |
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Well, I've seen the sunrise |
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See the love in my woman's eyes |
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Feel the touch of a precious child |
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And know a mother's love |
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I thank God for my life |
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And for the stars and stripes |
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May freedom forever fly |
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Let it ring |
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Salute the ones who died |
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The ones that give their lives |
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So we don't have to sacrifice |
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All the things we love |
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Like our chicken fried |
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And cold beer on a Friday night |
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A pair of jeans that fit just right |
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And the radio up |
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Well, I've seen the sunrise |
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See the love in my woman's eyes |
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Feel the touch of a precious child |
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And know a mother's love |
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Yes, a little chicken fried |
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Cold beer on a Friday night |
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A pair of jeans that fit just right |
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And the radio up |
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Well, I've seen the sunrise |
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See the love in my woman's eyes |
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Feel the touch of a precious child |
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And know a mother's love |
