THE LAST FREE MAN (OUTLAW COUNTRY) - Levi Stoker
For the last free man
The sun goes down behind the tall slash pines
Shadows stretching out across the county lines
They built a six-lane highway through my daddy's pasture bed
Paved right over the memories and the tears we bled
Now the suits in the city keep a ledger on my name
Trying to turn a living soul into a numbers game
They want to cut on my labor, my house and my land
Want me bowing my head to a corporate command
But I'm rooted right here where the wild briers grow
Too damn stubborn to let the spirit go
They can sign their papers, they can post their signs
Try to put a price tag on these mountain pines
Look me in the eye through the evening shade
And see a spirit that a dollar bill never made
Cause I'm the last free man in a ghost town state
Standing at the altar of a locked up gate
They want the paper, they want the time
But they can't put a leash on this heart of mine
You can chain the land, you can dam the stream
But you can't foreclose on a working man's dream
Let the world keep turning in a rusted plan
I'm breathing in the fire of the last free man
Met an old friend down at the ironwood mill
Said he gave up his fight for a steady paycheck bill
Got a collar around his neck and a clock on his wall
Watching all his youth and his freedom fall
I shook his tired hand, felt the cold in his palm
Sweat dripping heavy in the evening calm
I said I'd rather eat dirt off a wooden plate
Than sell my freedom for a wealthy man's steak
Cause I'm the last free man in a ghost town state
Standing at the altar of a locked up gate
They want the paper, they want the time
But they can't put a leash on this heart of mine
You can chain the land, you can dam the stream
But you can't foreclose on a working man's dream
Let the world keep turning in a rusted plan
I'm breathing in the fire of the last free man
Break the fences, tear down the wire
You can't extinguish an outlaw fire
Let the rain wash down on the red dirt floor
I'm standing my ground at the cabin door
Cause I'm the last free man in a ghost town state
Standing at the altar of a locked up gate
They want the paper, they want the time
But they can't put a leash on this heart of mine
You can chain the land, you can dam the stream
But you can't foreclose on a working man's dream
Let the world keep turning in a rusted plan
I'm breathing in the fire of the last free man
Red dirt beneath my boots
Pine trees whispering high
Unchained
The last free man
