The Hayride Kiss: An Autumn Country Love Song (Official 4K/HD Audio)

Possibly the most romantic country autumn song of the season. “The Hayride Kiss” begins with a wagon by the gate, horses breathing steam into the October air, maple leaves glowing red and gold, woodsmoke drifting past the orchard, and two young hearts trying not to reveal just how fast they are beating… Some love stories begin with fireworks. Others begin with hay beneath your boots, cider in the air, and wishing the country road would never end. Brought to you by the America 250 Band via our YouTube channel ‪@America250Band‬. (Lyrics and Music by Dr. Donny "Rocker" Deever) [Intro] October moon above the trees, a slight chill upon the breeze; A wagon waiting by the gate— And her beside me… our first date. [Verse 1] She climbed aboard in faded jeans, a red plaid shirt and boots; Maple leaves like rainbows lay around old gnarled roots. The horses breathed white clouds of steam, their harness bells rang low, and every turn of wooden wheels made autumn creak and roll. Sweet dry hay beneath our boots, woodsmoke in the air, warm apple cider, fallen leaves, and perfume in her hair. I’d dreamed all week of sitting close, but courage can run slack, So I'd left a little space between— and pondered how to close that gap. [Pre-Chorus] She smiled at me beneath the moon, then softly looked away; Funny how a country road can steal the words you longed to say. [Chorus] On that hayride home, under stars so bright, past pumpkin fields and weathered barns all glowing in the night; With leaves all turning gold and red, and the air so crisp and clear, I could hear my heart above the wheels every time she leaned in near. I’d loved that girl in secret, now she sat there by my side; And autumn worked its magic on that perfect country ride. [Verse 2] We passed a field of cornstalks, silver sheaves beneath the moon; A bonfire by the orchard sent up sparks that made us swoon. Somebody farther back began an old familiar song, then a fiddle found a mandolin and everybody sang along. The wagon hit a little rut; her shoulder brushed against mine. She laughed and said, “You all right there?” I flushed, “Yeah, I’m doing fine.” Our hands lay close between us, barely half an inch apart— But half an inch can feel like miles when you’re listening to your heart. Then one small turn, one little bump, her fingers touched my hand; Neither one of us pulled away— Which let me breathe again. [Chorus] On that hayride home, under stars so bright, past pumpkin fields and weathered barns all glowing in the night; With leaves all turning gold and red, and the air so crisp and clear, I could hear my heart above the wheels every time she leaned in near. Then her fingers slipped between mine, and all my fear was gone; Autumn worked its magic there as the wagon rolled along. [Verse 3] The road climbed up a wooded hill where the maple branches met; Scarlet leaves came drifting down like sparks not faded yet. The scent of pine and chimney smoke came drifting through the trees, And she moved closer for some warmth as the night picked up a breeze. She rested softly on my shoulder, I felt her settle there; I finally put my arm around her, slow and careful as a prayer. She nestled closer into me, her cheek against my chest— And every nervous thought I’d had went quiet with the rest. No crowded room, no neon glow, no city noise below— Just hoofbeats on a country road and dry leaves whispering low. [Bridge] Then the horses slowed beside the pond, where the moon lay on the water; The driver let them walk awhile, and the whole night seemed much softer. The fiddle stopped. The voices faded. Even the harness bells grew still. Leaves came whispering through the dark and tumbled down the hill. She lifted up her eyes to mine. I whispered, “Is this okay?” She smiled the kind of smile that took my doubts away. So underneath a harvest moon, while red leaves drifted by, I kissed her for the first time beneath October's sky. [Final Chorus] On that hayride home, under stars so bright, past pumpkin fields and sleeping farms and lanterns in the night; With her fingers wrapped around my hand, her head against my shoulder, And every mile that wagon rolled, I wished the road were longer. Maybe it was maple leaves, maybe moonlight through the pines; Maybe cider, hay and woodsmoke, or just her hand in mine. But I'd gone out shyly hoping, and came back knowing why— Some kinds of love need country roads, cool air and autumn skies. [Outro] The wagon stopped beside the barn, but we both held on fast; Some rides are only down a road— Some rides are made to last. I can still smell hay and woodsmoke when October nights turn cold, and still remember our first kiss when those maple leaves turned gold. Yeah, we fell in love' Oh, that hayride thrill… With a harvest moon above— And she's beside me still.