Lyrics

Jesse Johnston had a flat tire down on Chickerberry road
We heard he lost three cows that night when his barbed wire fence fell from the storm
We got a crew together, fixed the fence, and found the herd .
It was time to have a party down in the South on Chickerberry Road

We drink beer on Fridays, play those guitars through the night
Sing I’ll Fly Away on Sundays teach our children wrong from right.
BB Guns to Remingtons we grow into our rifles
We live by Southern Gospels, Guitars, Guns and Bibles

Jesse got married the next day we all gathered at the church
As a gift we put a new gun rack in the window of his truck
Preacher said let’s all bow our heads and bless them with a prayer
Then Amazing Grace came down as gospel music filled the air

We drink beer on Fridays, play those guitars through the night
Sing I’ll Fly Away on Sundays teach our children wrong from right
BB Guns to Remingtons we grow into our rifles
We live by Southern Gospels, Guitars, Guns and Bibles

We moved the party to the Johnston farm down Off Chickerberry Road
There were still boot prints planted in the mud from the night before
We used the bed of the trucks for chairs played a guitar family show
It was time whoop it up down in the South on Chickerberry Road

We drink beer on Fridays, play those guitars through the night
Sing I’ll Fly Away on Sundays teach our children wrong from right.
BB Guns to Remingtons we grow into our rifles
We live by Southern Gospels, Guitars, Guns and Bibles

Guitars, Guns and Bibles.
Guitars, Guns and Bibles.
Guitars, Guns and Bibles yeah