Choppin’ Wood Lyrics by Zach John King
(Feat. Brent Cobb)
Coffee black in his Coleman cup
‘Bout a quarter till 5 a.m.
Let that old Silverado warm up
I was riding with him
Grab them axes, threw ’em in the back
And swung till my shoulders ’bout gave out
He was going strong, I was tired as hell
He said, “Son, that house ain’t warming itself”
Choppin’ wood for the winter
In between swings talkin’ ’bout life
With a handful of splinters
Stacking red oak Chevy truck high
And I can hear him saying, “Boy, the work ain’t done”
Happiness was me and him beneath the October sun
Choppin’ wood for the winter
Pack lunch and his cigarettes
Sweat cold in the autumn breeze
Took thirty just to catch our breath
That’s when him and me would shoot the bull on do’s and don’ts
Young man’s blues and old man’s jokes
How to build and keep the fire
I guess iron sharpens iron
Choppin’ wood for the winter
In between swings talkin’ ’bout life
With a handful of splinters
Stacking red oak Chevy truck high
And I can hear him saying, “Boy, the work ain’t done”
Happiness was me and him beneath the October sun
Choppin’ wood for the winter, mm
Choppin’ wood for the winter
These days, when them leaves change
Pour myself a cup of Folgers
Leave one axe in the corner, and I go
Choppin’ wood for the winter
Lookin’ up at the harvest sky
With a handful of splinters
Stacking red oak Chevy truck high
And I can hear him saying, “Boy, the work ain’t done”
I know he’s up there looking down and proud of his grandson
Just choppin’ wood for the winter, mm
Choppin’ wood for the winter
