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I remember my old man
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He worked in the oil fields
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And I could never understand why
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The dirt and greese on his hands
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Driving home at sundown
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Making just enough to get us by
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When I left home I swore I'd make it rich some other way
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I didn't know where I was going but my dad would always say
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"Pray out loud, make us proud, and son don't forget where you come from."
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A few years out on the road
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Working on the high lines
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I got laid off in the spring
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I mowed yards and sold used cars
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I worked nights down at the bars
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Yeah I tried damn near everything
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I had to find my own way no matter what he said
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But the sound of his voice was still ringing in my head
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"Pray out loud, make us proud, and son don't forget where you come from"
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And I went home to be by daddy's side before he passed away
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And I never will forget the last words I heard him say
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"Pray out loud, make us proud, and son don't forget where you come from"
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Now I'm breaking ground on my own
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Oceans of oil fields
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And my hands get dirty every day
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A big house in San Antone
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I'm living the good life
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But my home seems far away
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No matter where I am each night before I fall asleep
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I'll always think of what my daddy said to me
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"Pray out loud, make us proud and son don't forget to pray out loud make us
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Proud, and son don't forget where you come from"
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I remember my old man
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He worked in the oil fields
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And now I understand why