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The rickety front porch, planks are creakinâ
But the Hound dog by the door keeps sleepinâ
Old men stare when you walk in
And behind the counter stands Big Jim
Heâs five feet tall and a little change
Telling stories with a grin on his face
Chorus
It smells like country ham and cheese
Pipe tobacco and kerosene
Thereâs a pot belly stove and checkers by the door
Itâs a dying breed the old country store
Thereâs homemade fudge, RC and moon pies
Fishing lures, guns and knifes
Camo gear and turkey calls
Carhartt coats and overalls
Itâs a whole lot different than the new quick stack
âCause when you leave they say, âyaâll come backâ
Chorus
If youâre ever around these parts, stop in
âCause if you do youâre gonna wanna come back again
Thereâs a radio station playinâ country
And on Saturday nights they listen to the Opry
Tappinâ to the fiddles on a hard wood floor
Itâs a dying breed the old country store
Man I love the old country store
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