Holler Roots Volume 1

Come on, Trigger, we got places to be. Well... apparently this leaf needs a second opinion. Got a little silver harp in my hand, Gold leaves falling where the sidewalks bend. Afternoon sunshine warming my sleeve, Trigger found something I couldn't see. I had a list and a head full of miles, He put the whole world on hold for a while. One white paw in a pile of red, Heard a little tune, and here's what it said. Trigger takes his time, and the sun shines through, There's a song in the leaves and a sky so blue. We ain't chasing tomorrow, got no race to win, Just an old sweet melody and the autumn wind. Like 90 Going North! That's how my heart rolls, With a little white dog teaching me to stroll. Let that harmonica ring like a Sunday bell, Trigger takes his time, and all is well. Every signpost gets a thorough review, That ant hill's got the neighborhood news. One blade of grass, then he circles back, Must be a chapter that he skipped out back. I said, "Son, what's so good about that smell?" He looked like, "Buddy, there's too much to tell." I'm just asking questions, that's all. He went right back to reading the fall. Trigger takes his time, and the sun shines through, There's a song in the leaves and a sky so blue. We ain't chasing tomorrow, got no race to win, Just an old sweet melody and the autumn wind. Like 90 Going North! That's how my heart rolls, With a little white dog teaching me to stroll. Let that harmonica ring like a Sunday bell, Trigger takes his time, and all is well. I thought the blessing waited farther down the road. Maybe it's beside you, where the yellow leaves blow. I brought a pocketful of hurry out today. That little dog of yours keeps giving it away. Thank You, Lord, for breathing room, For ordinary afternoons. For love that walks beside us still, And teaches busy hearts to be still. Trigger takes his time, and the sun shines through, There's a song in the leaves and a sky so blue. We ain't chasing tomorrow, got no race to win, Just an old sweet melody and the autumn wind. Like 90 Going North! Let the good times roll, We can take it slow and still be full of soul. Let that harmonica ring like a Sunday bell, Trigger takes his time, and all is well. And all is well. Right here, right now, and all is well. All right, Trigger. One more leaf. I reckon the porch will still be there. And all is well.