Author’s Note: On this past Memorial Day, W and I were headed south down on US-17 to Jekyll Island while listening to some peckerwood small town FM station railing on about proposed gun control legislation and the last week’s school shooting particulars, while a song was played as an intermission before the next speaker wanted to talk about Memorial Day things going on in local countries. That was a vibe that led me to poorly recall a country’s song’s lyrics I’ve adjusted to the moment at hand.

We all know bird is best when it’s chicken fried
It makes cold better better on a Friday night
Like wearing old work jeans cause they fit just right
And our car radios’re turned way up

Well, we’re up beneath the shade of Georgia pine
And that’s home you know
Sweet tea, pecan pie, and homemade hooch-n-wine
Where the peaches grow
And folks’ houses not much to talk about
But they’re filled with love that’s grown in southern ground
And more than a little bit of chicken fried

Well, it’s funny how it’s the little things in life that mean the most
Not where you live or what you drive or the price tag on your clothes
There’s no dollar sign on a peace of mind this I’ve come to know
So if you agree have a drink with me
Raise you glasses for a toast
To a little bit of chicken fried

It makes cold better better on a Friday night
Like wearing old work jeans cause they fit just right
And our car radios’re turned way up

We thank God for our life
And for the stars and stripes
May freedom forever fly, let it ring.
Salute the ones who died
The ones that give their lives so we don’t have to sacrifice
All the things we love
Like our chicken fried

It makes cold better netter on a Friday night
Like wearing old work jeans cause they fit just right
And our car radios’re turned way up

Amen to and all rights reserved by the Zac Brown Band

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