Seventeen and Free

Seventeen years old, boots by the door,

Camo jacket hanging where it always has before,

Dad’s old truck cranks up before the sun,

Headed for the mountains,

chasing morning’s first light.

Coffee in a thermos,

rifle in the case,

Cold November air putting a smile on his face,

He ain’t looking for fame,

he ain’t looking for gold,

Just a little time in the woods and stories to hold.

He’s seventeen,

wild and free,

Mountain air is all he needs,

With a muddy pair of boots and a sky full of stars,

He’s finding out who he is underneath the scars.

From the first crack of dawn till the evening light,

He’ll be out there hunting,

living life right, Yeah,

he’s seventeen,

and the whole world’s wide,

With a love for the outdoors and the mountains by his side.

(by his side, yeah)

He knows every trail running through those pines,

Can tell when the weather’s about to change by the signs,

A bull elk calling somewhere way up high,

Echoing through the valley underneath a purple sky.

Sometimes he comes home with nothing in his pack,

But a thousand good memories and a story to tell back,

'Cause it ain't always about what you bring home,

Sometimes the best days are the ones you're alone.

Someday he'll look back on these younger days,

At the worn-out boots and the old dirt roads he chased,

And he'll realize the greatest thing he ever found Wasn't always the

hunt—it was the memories on that ground.

He’s seventeen,

wild and free, With the whole damn world waiting patiently,

A little bit of country running through his veins,

A little bit of sunshine,

a little mountain rain.

And wherever life takes him when these young days fly,

He'll remember those mountains underneath that sky,

Yeah, he’s seventeen,

and he’s learning every day— Sometimes the best part of life is

the journey on the way.

(journey on the way)