Plumb Line Kickoff

When the whistle blows on Friday, and the mill gates clang shut tight,
Every crooked nail in this whole town straightens up for the Friday night.
We've spent all week on beams and rebar, sweat drippin' in the dust,
Now the only blueprints we're eyeing, are drawn in glory, trust.

[Chorus]
Yeah, the lights shine down, a golden scaffold, high above the field,
Where the heart of this valley, strong and true, is finally revealed.
This town's built on grit and spirit, and a leather spiral spin,
When the Plumb Line Kickoff flies, boy, that's where we all fit in.

[Verse 2]
You can hear the distant train whistle, a low rumble through the trees,
While sawdust settles on the porch swing, carried on the evening breeze.
Old man Crowley's got his spot marked, front row, same as twenty years,
Says it's the structural integrity holding back the blue-collar tears.

[Chorus]
Yeah, the lights shine down, a golden scaffold, high above the field,
Where the heart of this valley, strong and true, is finally revealed.
This town's built on grit and spirit, and a leather spiral spin,
When the Plumb Line Kickoff flies, boy, that's where we all fit in.

[Bridge]
We don't need no grand designs, no city lights to blind,
Just a shared foundation, solid ground, and a victory we can find.
It's a crooked nail, a straight-shot field goal, the only kind of fame,
That sets this valley's soul ablaze, shouting out its name.

[Outro]
From the bleachers to the goal line, a tight-knit frame, we stand,
This Friday night, the finest church in all the mountain land.