Along old fence lines
truth rings like the music of a mockingbird,
where a man is still as worthy as his word...
along old fence lines.
And I see my grandpa resting by that old Artesian well,
ah, there's watermelon dripping down my chin,
the ladies in their finest dresses coming out for church,
and so I guess it must be Wednesday evening...
along old fence lines.
Across old bridges
are fragments of a world that didn't turn so fast,
but if you were headed somewhere, friend, they'd let you past
across old bridges.
And I see those kids on Shetland ponies out near Clifton's Store,
the old men playing checkers by the gate,
and Haggard's singin' Mama Tried somewhere along the dial,
and I believe it must be about 1968
across old bridges.
There's a place between this two-lane highway and the past,
where old friends pass gently through my mind.
I see them for a moment, then they slowly slip away,
and melt back through the distant lens of time,
along old fence lines...
across old bridges...
beside old rail yards...
along old fence lines.
Brian Burns - Along Old Fence Lines Lyrics
Brian Burns - Along Old Fence Lines Lyrics
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Along old fence lines
truth rings like the music of a mockingbird,
where a man is still as worthy as his word...
along old fence lines.
And I see my grandpa resting by that old Artesian well,
ah, there's watermelon dripping down my chin,
the ladies in their finest dresses coming out for church,
and so I guess it must be Wednesday evening...
along old fence lines.
Across old bridges
are fragments of a world that didn't turn so fast,
but if you were headed somewhere, friend, they'd let you past
across old bridges.
And I see those kids on Shetland ponies out near Clifton's Store,
the old men playing checkers by the gate,
and Haggard's singin' Mama Tried somewhere along the dial,
and I believe it must be about 1968
across old bridges.
There's a place between this two-lane highway and the past,
where old friends pass gently through my mind.
I see them for a moment, then they slowly slip away,
and melt back through the distant lens of time,
along old fence lines...
across old bridges...
beside old rail yards...
along old fence lines.
truth rings like the music of a mockingbird,
where a man is still as worthy as his word...
along old fence lines.
And I see my grandpa resting by that old Artesian well,
ah, there's watermelon dripping down my chin,
the ladies in their finest dresses coming out for church,
and so I guess it must be Wednesday evening...
along old fence lines.
Across old bridges
are fragments of a world that didn't turn so fast,
but if you were headed somewhere, friend, they'd let you past
across old bridges.
And I see those kids on Shetland ponies out near Clifton's Store,
the old men playing checkers by the gate,
and Haggard's singin' Mama Tried somewhere along the dial,
and I believe it must be about 1968
across old bridges.
There's a place between this two-lane highway and the past,
where old friends pass gently through my mind.
I see them for a moment, then they slowly slip away,
and melt back through the distant lens of time,
along old fence lines...
across old bridges...
beside old rail yards...
along old fence lines.