Top Songs By Brooks Herring
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Brooks Herring
Performer
Jesse Isley
Acoustic Guitar
Jerry McPherson
Electric Guitar
Jeff Coplan
Background Vocals
Nick Buda
Drums
Justin Schipper
Pedal Steel Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Brooks Herring
Songwriter
Matt McKinney
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jeff Coplan
Producer
Adam Ayan
Mastering Engineer
Justin Collins
Cover Art
Skyler Chuckry
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
I didn’t drop a deer evr’y mornin’
from a deep woods pine tree stand
But I’ve been huntin’ half a world from home
and put blood in the desert sand
I didn’t pray for rain or grain,
I just prayed to survive
I didn’t wear Red Wings or a Stetson,
but there’s cowboy in my eyes
I Might not be what you’d call country, till the country calls
First in line to answer, pack it up and risk it all
I\'m not one for church on Sunday, till another of us falls
I might not be what you’d call country, till the country calls
I wear a different kind of camo
And my rifle ain’t the same
The jacked up trucks are bulletproof
And the radio won’t play Hank
I Might not be what you’d call country, till the country calls
First in line to answer, pack it up and risk it all
I\'m not one for church on Sunday, till another of us falls
I might not be what you’d call country, till the country calls
I’ve got couple tags, they hang here on this chain
And I’ll reap what I’ve sewn, but it won’t make it to your plate
I Might not be what you’d call country, till the country calls
First in line to answer, pack it up and risk it all
I\'m not one for church on Sunday, till a brother of mine falls
I might not be what you’d call country, till the country calls
There’s no 12 point on my wall
but there’s scars on my soul
The only trophy on my mantle
Is a flag I don’t unfold
Written by: Brooks Herring, Matt McKinney