https://www.youtube.com/@CS-Country-Music<br /><br />The story behind “Roots Still Hold Me” begins on a narrow gravel drive tucked between rolling hills, where mornings arrived with purpose and patience. The narrator grew up in a place where time moved slower, marked not by clocks but by rooster calls, weathered fences, and the smell of strong coffee drifting through a screen door that never quite shut all the way. Music wasn’t something you chased—it was something that lived with you. Old hymns hummed from a radio on the counter, fiddles cried at family gatherings, and banjos rang out on Sundays like a second sermon.<br /><br />Life there wasn’t easy, but it was honest. Clothes were passed down, names carried weight, and faith wasn’t loud—it was practiced. You learned how to pray by working hard, by keeping your boots in the dirt and showing up even when your hands were sore. Strength came from watching calloused hands fix what was broken. Hope came from songs sung without planning, harmonies born in barns, kitchens, and front porches when the day was finally done.<br /><br />As the narrator grew older, the world beyond those hills began calling. Dreams stretched past county lines, and the road offered more than the hometown ever could. Leaving wasn’t an act of rebellion—it was an act of belief. Belief that those roots were strong enough to survive distance. So the narrator packed worn-out boots and a pocket full of memories and chased something bigger, something louder.<br /><br />But the farther they went, the clearer it became: home doesn’t loosen its grip just because you leave. In moments of doubt—when nights ran long and the noise of the world drowned out confidence—the sound of a fiddle would surface in memory. A banjo would ring like a Sunday bell, reminding them that grace often finds you at your lowest point. Every risk taken carried a piece of home along with it.<br /><br />The song was written from that realization: you can grow wings without cutting roots. The bluegrass hills shaped the narrator’s faith, voice, and resilience. Even as life changed them, those early lessons stayed planted deep. The world might polish the edges, but it could never rewrite the foundation.<br /><br />“Roots Still Hold Me” is ultimately about belonging—not to a place on a map, but to the values, sounds, and faith that raise you. No matter how far the narrator roams, those roots remain, steady and unbreakable, quietly guiding them home.
