Lyrics:

Front doors closed and nobody's home
I got trouble on my mind
Somebody's been cheating
I'd rather be blind
Don't bother looking
Naw you shouldn't, I'll be alright
But in case here's some places you could try
I might be fishing with a pole made out of cane
I might be there at the hometown football game
I might be by a fire with a bottle and a six string
But if you know me best you know I'm probably
Down a dirt road in Georgia

As the leaves change colors
There still is another
And my eyes are calling for rain
How am I doing?
Well I'd say the same old same
You say you miss me, would like to see me
Where have I been
You can keep on looking
When you get finished with him
I might be fishing with a Coleman and a cane
Or I might be there at the hometown football game
I might be camping, just me and the fellas
But if you know me best you know I'm probably
If you know me best you know I'm probably
Down a dirt road in Georgia

If you know me best you know I'm probably
Down a dirt road in Georgia
In Georgia, no, no
Take me
Take me home
To Georgia