A song about driving through your hometown, long after you left.

Driving south on Old Cash Road
Beside empty fields and model homes
This two lane road I take
Winds like an old black snake
Heading towards the great unknown

A mile past the trestle bridge
I’ll take a left on Route 52
Join a long line of travelers
Whose lives have come unraveled
Searching for some greater truth

Chorus:
They’ve been knocking my childhood down
Looking for something that can’t be found
That mythical thing called enough
That brings peace of mind and true love
The farms have been subdivided
And they’re building houses in their place
Where people use dollars like sandbags
Trying to keep the storms at bay

I live on the family farm
Daddy’s faded tractor in the yard
Behind an old barbwire fence
That’s mounting a brave defense
With a rusty cattle guard

My folks have been gone for years
But I held on to the old homestead
It’s my one chance for refuge
High ground before the deluge
The threatens the life we led

Chorus:
They’ve been knocking my childhood down
Looking for something that can’t be found
That mythical thing called enough
That brings peace of mind and true love
The farms have been subdivided
And they’re building houses in their place
Where people use dollars like sandbags
Trying to keep the storms at bay

Bridge:
In the thick kudzu vines
That grow on Society Hill
You trace your family lines
And mourn for all you’ve lost
You think about loved ones
Who sweated for every acre
And you know you’ll die on that land
No matter what the cost

Chorus:
They’ve been knocking my childhood down
Looking for something that can’t be found
That mythical thing called enough
That brings peace of mind and true love
The farms have been subdivided
And they’re building houses in their place
Where people use dollars like sandbags
Trying to keep the storms at bay

© Kent Newsome and Ronnie Jeffrey