(Billy Currington/Kenny Beard/Casey Beathard)
That red Georgia clay when mixed with the rain
Sure made for one nasty mess
Ah but we were ridin’ high in the old truck of mine
As deep as we could get
Always lookin’ for a rut tryin’ not to get stuck
And swingin’ that mud everywhere
Growin’ up down there
Me and my friends where the deep river bends
Had a long rope tied to a tree
Takin’ turns on a swing, takin’ turns takin’ drinks
And I don’t mean iced tea
A good buzz later playin’ chicken with the gators
Way too young to be scared
Growin’ up down there
And those tan little peaches turnin’ us on
Keepin’ things hot all summer long
If I could back in a second I swear
Well I’d still be growin’ up down there
Well nothin’ going on ever lasted too long
We were good at makin’ good times
Find a field spread the word keep a bonfire burnin’
Through both ends of the night
Had the radio up had a keg in a truck
Tryin’ to get lucky somewhere
Growin’ up down there
And those tan little peaches turnin’ us on
Keepin’ things hot all summer long
If I could back in a second I swear
Well I’d still be growin’ up down there
Yeah those tan little peaches turnin’ us on
Keepin’ things hot all summer long
If I could back in a second I swear
Well I’d still be growin’ up down there
Yeah lookin’ back now man it don’t seem fair
If you didn’t get to do it
Growin’ up down there