It's just an old, beat up truck
Some say that I should trade up
Now that I got some jangle in my pocket
But what they don't understand
Is it's the miles that make a man
I wouldn't trade that thing for a rocket

What they don't know is my dad and me
We drove her out to Tennessee
She's still here, now, he's gone
So I hold on

It's just an old, beat up box
It's rusty strings across the top
It probably don't look like much to you
But these dents and scratches in the wood
Yeah, that's what makes it sound so good
To me, it's better than brand new

You see, this here flat top guitar
It's had my back in a million bars
Singing every country song
So I hold on

To the things I believe in
My faith, your love, our freedom
To the things I can count on
To keep me going strong
Yeah, I hold on

Like the stripes to a flag
Like a boy to his dad
I can't change who I am
Right or wrong
So I hold on

Baby, looking at you right now
There ain't never been no doubt
Without you, I'd be nothing
So if you ever worry about me walking out
Yeah, let me tell you something
I hold on
I hold on

Can you hear me, baby
I hold on

Yeah!
I hold on

To the things I believe in
My faith, your love, our freedom
To the things I can count on
To keep me going strong
Yeah, I hold on

I hold on, and on, and on, and on, and on
I hold on, and on, and on, and on, and on