HARDY Bottomland Lyrics and Meaning: A Burial Song, A Homecoming

Bottomland is HARDY’s first release from COUNTRY! COUNTRY!, the upcoming album due September 26, 2025.

Released August 1, the single already feels like a cornerstone, drawing from death, tradition, and Mississippi soil in ways that sound more lived than written.

The track’s already picked up over 320,000 YouTube views in a matter of days.

But it’s not the numbers that stand out. It’s the way listeners are responding with stories about their own grandfathers, old rifles, and the kind of funerals that don’t need a preacher to feel holy.

HARDY – Michael Wilson Hardy, born and raised in Philadelphia, Mississippi knows exactly where this one’s coming from.

After tearing through arenas and metal riffs on Quit!!, this song plants its feet in different ground. It’s quiet but not soft.

Stripped back but not hollow. The kind of country ballad that doesn’t try to impress anyone. Just tells the truth.

The title refers to bottomland, low-lying soil near rivers, fertile and often flooded. It’s also a camo brand worn by hunters, which gives the song its double meaning.

But HARDY never over-explains it. He trusts the people who know will get it. And for those who don’t, the meaning still lands.

He sings about burial without flinching:
“Bury me in bottomland / With my grandpa’s rifle in my hand.”
It’s not melodramatic. It’s a request. A way to be remembered that doesn’t involve a suit or ceremony.

Lines like “Where I come from didn’t have no choice / But what I’ve done well, or so I’m told” tell you exactly what kind of man this is.

Someone proud of his roots, aware of his success, but uninterested in showing it off. The emotion runs deep, but it never spills over.

Musically, the song starts with just an acoustic guitar. Then the organ slides in, not as background, but as a signal.

The sound shifts from front porch to church pew. Not a gospel explosion, but something closer to a Sunday prayer whispered through pine trees.

The production, led by Zach Abend, holds HARDY’s voice in focus. When the instruments pull back and he’s left singing alone, it doesn’t feel empty. It feels like confession. Not dramatic. Just real.

And people are hearing that. One fan wrote on YouTube, “The interpreted meaning behind this song cuts deep… I won’t lie, I teared up.”

Another: “My grandfather died a few days ago… this song tells my story.” It’s rare for a new single to carry that kind of weight. But this one’s doing it.

The rifle is more than a detail. It stands for everything handed down – blood, memory, the right to be buried with what made you who you are.

When HARDY asks to be laid to rest with it, he’s not glorifying violence or playing into tropes. He’s holding onto his grandfather the only way he knows how.

There’s no polish in the funeral plans. No suit, no tie. “Don’t wanna be hard to recognize,” he says. It’s simple: bury me how I lived. The way people talk in real life, not country radio.

Then comes the afterlife. And it’s not golden gates or streets of light. HARDY wonders if Heaven has “big tall pines or whitetail bucks with ten-inch tines.”

If it does, he says, “Them woods gonna be the first place I go.” That’s not poetic license. That’s a real man’s idea of peace.

Bottomland was written by HARDY alongside Zach Abend, Smith Ahnquist, Jessie Jo Dillon, and Hunter Phelps.

The collaboration doesn’t water anything down, it sharpens the focus. Every line feels personal, but the message is broad.

This is about legacy. About going back. About being from somewhere that never really lets you leave, even when you do.

In interviews, HARDY has said COUNTRY! COUNTRY! is about returning to what raised him.

While he loved the chaos of playing in the rock world, he missed the kind of songwriting that came out of writing sessions with country peers – the ones who helped him pen chart-toppers before he ever had a solo hit. This track feels like a nod to them. And to the people back home.

One commenter wrote, “God bless country boys.” Another said, “He’s the best songwriter of our generation.” That may sound like hype. But when you hear the organ hum under that last verse, and the lyrics sink in, it’s hard to argue.

This isn’t nostalgia. It’s not a tribute. It’s a man asking to go home the way he came in.

So maybe the “bottomland” isn’t just earth. Maybe it’s everything underneath the fame, the chart placements, the alter-egos.

It’s the part that never moved. The dirt he came from. The story that still owns him.

And maybe, for a lot of us, that’s the only place we ever really want to end up.

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Full Lyrics to Bottomland by Hardy

Chorus
Bury me in bottomland
With my Grandpa’s rifle in my hand
Lord, just take me as I am
Bury me in bottomland

Verse 1
I am just a country boy
Where I come from didn’t have no choice
Oh, but I’ve done well or so I’m told
So baby, wear my watch, baby, sell my gold

Chorus
And bury me in bottomland
With my Grandpa’s rifle in my hand
Lord, just take me as I am
And bury me in bottomland

Verse 2
I don’t care which box, don’t care which stone
All I care’s what I got on
Don’t need no suit, don’t need no tie
I don’t wanna be hard to recognize

Chorus
Bury me in bottomland
With my Grandpa’s rifle in my hand
Lord, just take me as I am
And bury me in bottomland

Verse 3
I don’t know if Heaven’s got big tall pines
Or white tail bucks with ten-inch tines
But if I get there and it looks likе home
Them woods gonna be thе first place I go

Chorus
So bury me in bottomland
With my Grandpa’s rifle in my hand
Lord, just take me as I am
And bury me in bottomland
And bury me in bottomland