Rolling Back Home
© Zeekbazar

Morning dust on a two-lane sign,
Sun comes up like it’s right on time.
Coffee cooling, engine hums,
This road still knows where I’m from.

I grew up where the grain silos stand,
Friday lights and a marching band.
Names carved deep in the bleachers’ wood,
We learned fast what was bad and good.
Mama said “boy, keep your word,”
Dad said “son, let the truth be heard.”
I left town chasing something new,
But every mile kept pulling me to you.

Every exit looks the same,
But my heart still knows the name.

I’m rolling back to where I started,
Same streets, same sky, same heartbeat.
I’ve seen the world, but I’m still guarded
By the place that made a man of me.
Yeah, I roam, but I’m rooted deep,
Small-town dust in my blood runs free.

I’ve played rooms with a hundred faces,
Cheap motel beds, fast food places.
I learned quick what fame can’t do,
It don’t fix holes, it don’t tell you truth.
Out here miles feel long and wide,
Radio songs keep me alive.
But when the night gets cold and long,
I hear home in every song.

I don’t run from where I’ve been,
That’s the ground I’m standing in.

I’m rolling back to where I started,
Same streets, same sky, same heartbeat.
I’ve seen the world, but I’m still guarded
By the place that made a man of me.
Yeah, I roam, but I’m rooted deep,
Small-town dust in my blood runs free.

If I’m gone, I’m not erased,
Every road leads through that place.
I carry it wherever I go,
Like a compass only I know.

I’m rolling back to where I started,
Not to hide, but to stand tall.
That town didn’t break my heart—it
Taught me how to answer the call.
Yeah, I roam, but I’m rooted deep,
Small-town dust in my blood runs free.

Sun goes down on the rearview frame,
No matter how far, it’s still my name.