Rifles in the morning
Turkeys in the grain
Desperate boys in windswept fields
Running for a train
Skin soaked revelations
Whiskey before dawn
It won't be the same now that Carter's gone

Drive-ins on the state line
That high and lonesome sound
Wake up on that hilltop
Carter's in the ground
It makes you kind of hang your head
Cry into the dawn
'Cause it won't be the same now that Carter's gone

White doves in the heart
I heard somebody say
Nobody's ever going to play those songs that way again

And I drive through old Kentucky
Tearing through the gears
Trying not to think of him
Through all my bluegrass tears

Put that guitar beneath the bus
I can't play another one
They don't sound the same now that Carter's gone
Things will never be the same
Now that Carter's gone

Copyright: Bluewater Music Corp.
Writer(s): Fred Elgersma