It’s just an old beat-up truck Some say that I should trade up Now that I got some jangle in my pocket
But what they don’t understand Is it’s the miles that make a man I wouldn’t trade that thing in for a rocket
What they don’t know’s my dad and me– We drove her out to Tennessee She’s still here, now he’s gone So I hold on
It’s just an old beat up box Its rusty strings across the top It probably don’t look like much to you
But these dents and scratches in the wood Yeah, that’s what makes it sound so good To me it’s better than brand new
You see this here flat top guitar’s Had my back in a million bars Singing every country song So I hold on
To the things I believe in My faith, your love, our freedom To the things I can count on To keep me going strong Yeah, I hold on, I hold on
Like the stripes to the flag Like a boy to his dad I can’t change who I am, right or wrong So I hold on
Baby, looking at you right now There ain’t never been no doubt Without you I’d be nothing
So if you ever worry about Me walking out Yeah, let me tell you something
I hold on I hold on Can you hear me, baby? I hold on Yea I hold on…
To the things I believe in My faith, your love, our freedom To the things I can count on To keep me going strong
To the things I believe in My faith, your love, our freedom To the things I can count on To keep me going strong Yeah, I hold on…
I hold on… I hold on and on and on and on and on I hold on and on and on and on and on
