American Thread - Tim Montana

Tough as nails, hard as bricks

Six foot one, walkin' ten foot six

Four on the floor, twelve in the back

With the Weather Guard box and an old gun rack

Devine, ridin' high

Rough neck red 'til the day we die

We’re the 18 wheelers haulin' loads

Honky tonk farmers cuttin' rows

Hard hats out there poundin' roads

We’re the workin' class son and that ain’t low

The Copenhagen cowboy kind

With the camouflage on their front lines

Stand for the flag 'til the day we’re dead

We’re every stitch in this American thread

We’re the dusted boots and late night rides

Busted knuckles and bloodshot eyes

Might break our backs but not our pride

Rough neck red 'til the day we die

We’re the 18 wheelers haulin' loads

Honky tonk farmers cuttin' rows

Hard hats out there poundin' roads

We’re the workin' class son and that ain’t low

The Copenhagen cowboy kind

With the camouflage on their front lines

Stand for the flag 'til the day we’re dead

We’re every stitch in this American thread

To the never quit stay in the fight

To the boys in blue out savin' lives

From the teachers and the preachers tryna raise 'em right

From third shift hustle to the nine to five

To the single mom tryna feed her kids

To the bartender tendin' on makin' tips

We’re all one people at the end of the day

No mater where we’re from we’re American made (American made)

We’re the 18 wheelers haulin' loads

Honky tonk farmers cuttin' rows

Hard hats out there poundin' roads

We’re the workin' class son and that ain’t low

The Copenhagen cowboy kind

With the camouflage on their front lines

Stand for the flag 'til the day we’re dead

We’re every stitch in this American thread