Trey Matheson - These Front Porch Ghost's - Contemporary Country Classic Ballads
Trey Matheson is a heartfelt, traditional country balladeer with that deep, resonant voice and powerful delivery. Trey’s music pulls at the heartstrings, singing about faith, family, home, and patriotism. His songs give a tip of the hat to the people and lives of those who live the Country life, like the tough American farmer full of toughness and integrity, giving their all to keep the dream alive, often against immeasurable odds.
He's all about keeping the classic contemporary country vibe alive, the kind with steel guitars, fiddles, and stories that hit you right in the soul. As an AI artist, his collaboration is with a like-minded content creator who shares all the same values, as those that make up the fanbase of Trey’s music.
Trey’s rugged good looks, and confident “easy does it” demeaner make him a popular draw whenever and wherever he takes the stage.
Trey’s music, lyrics and emotional delivery are inspired the persona of some of the greats of country music.
Please enjoy Trey’s timeless, classic country sound born from a passionate collaboration dedicated to keeping real country alive—one steel guitar and fiddle at a time!
Trey Matheson - Social Media Accounts
Youtube: / @treymathesoncountrydreams
Instagram: / treymathesoncountrymusic
Tiktok: / treymatheson
Pinterest: / trey-matheson-country-music-dreams
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
The screen door creaks like it knows my name,
Wind chimes dance to an old refrain,
Mama's rocking chair still leans to the right,
Like it’s waiting for her on a quiet night.
[Prechorus]
And the past don’t knock, it just walks on through,
Sits at the table, pours a memory or two.
[Chorus]
These front porch ghosts, they don’t ever leave,
They whisper in the wood, they breathe in the breeze.
They’re in the cracks, they’re in the stones,
They make this house a heart, not just a home.
Oh, these front porch ghosts, they’re part of me.
[Verse 2]
The willow still weeps where we carved our names,
Roots run deep, but the heart still flames.
The mailbox leans, letters long turned to dust,
But the stories linger, in them I trust.
[Prechorus]
The years don’t fade, they just shift their hue,
Like the sunset stained in a windows view.
[Chorus]
These front porch ghosts, they don’t ever leave,
They hum in the hollows, they cry in the eaves.
They’re in the echoes, in the floorboard’s moans,
They make this house a heart, not just a home.
Oh, these front porch ghosts, oh oh-oh oh
they’re part of me.
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