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Real Small Town

© 2018 Aaron Traffas (BMI)

Supposedly salt of the earth, folks around here they always smile
’tis folly to be wise when you know you know wrong and right
Our progress seems suffocatingly locked in rewind
Everyone here seems content to wash and close their minds

In a real small town my thoughts die in my throat
Stifled by the wrongness spreading like it’s in the water
In a real small town my hope lies unprovoked
Don’t let them see me frown
or my convictions start to falter
I keep my head down in a real small town

My dreams are cast aside like beer cans flung into the night
from the windows of the beat-up trucks with nuts and cowboy stripes
made by guys who have low self esteem and I can’t say they’re not right
to judge themselves for giving up on their dreams they’ve cast aside

I need to burn off this fog let me please get some sun
Set my imagination free and take the dust off of my tongue
But if I can’t find my anthem soon I’ll sing another old refrain
I’ll put the same words in a row and let the single malt solve the pain

In a real small town, the dreams are really small
Constrained by God to worship simple ways and simple minds
In a real small town, I can’t sleep at all
Judgments passed as quick as someone giving me the time
I’ll never get out of this real small town