Last Stand On Easy Street

(hm-mmmm) My grandfather broke this soil with a team of mules and

steel

He taught me how the dust of spring is something you can

feel

But the banker has a ledger

that doesn't care about the rain

Or fifty years of sweat we poured to build this fence again.

They can write their letters,

they can stamp their bold red ink

But I ain't leaving this valley,

no matter what they think

This dirt is in my blood,

this timber's in my bone

A working man will stand his ground to keep what is his

own.

I watched my daddy tire out

beneath this burning sun

He told me son you never yield until the harvest's done

Now the notice is on the screen-door,

they say my time is thin

But I'll work another eighteen hours before I let them win.

They can write their letters,

they can stamp their bold red ink

But I ain't leaving this valley,

no matter what they think

This dirt is in my blood,

this timber's in my bone

A working man will stand his ground to keep

what is his own.

No, they won't take this dirt

(no sir)