Rugged & Free

RUGGED AND FREE

Verse
Well the ghost of old Mark Twain, slips from the saloon
Smiling slyly as you knew he would, ‘neath the waning summer moon
Hoofbeats clickin’ clackin’, oak wheels groanin’ cracklin’
On that smooth worn cobblestone
He leads the way down to the river, through the gloom and through the fog
You can smell the rich muddy water, feel the promise of it’s song
And you can hear the gypsies singing, over music janglin’ jinglin’
As that steamboat whistle blows
You can hear

CHORUS
The spirit of young America
So wild and raw, rugged and free
And you can find it there
Woven through myths and tales
Of our history
Dark as it may be



Verse
Walt Whitman’s gone a walkin’, his old notebook in his hand
Breaking bread with all his countrymen, seeking the secrets of this land
Going where free will might point him, calling you to join him
Go find the song of yourself too
Dancing with the farmer’s daughter, no shoes and tattered clothes
Drifting, smiling through the heartland, dusty trails and winding roads
Taking only the truth he’s after, leaving poetry and laughter
And wise words to hold onto
Leaving the

CHORUS

Bridge
There goes ol’ Muddy Waters, Lightnin’ Hopkins,
Miles Davis, Nina Simone
There goes ol’ Blind Willie McTell, Charles Mingus,
Aretha Franklin, Quincy Jones
Moanin’ and achin’ through the music
With unbreakable spirit and an iron backbone
Carrying the weight of the whole damn world
With suffering and soul through song
Songs of freedom
So let’s sing ya’ll, sing for the greats that came before us
We’re paying homage
Let’s sing, songs of freedom
Let’s dance, dance for freedom
Let’s sing, songs of freedom
Let’s dance, dance from freedom
Sing it out loud, sing it out loud, sing it out loud
Move your body
Sing it out loud, out loud, sing it out loud
Move your body
Sing it from the mountain tops, sing it from your soul
And let’s jam

Verse
There goes the shadow of Woody Guthrie, looming on the tracks
Whistling a railroad tune, his old guitar slung on his back
He’ll be jumping the next freightline, cruising down the state line
Singing a working man’s song
So let him take you to the lowdown places, where no one wants to go
Giving sad and dirty faces, a little spark of hope
Singing for the broke and busted, for the worn down and disgusted
Singing for every wretched soul
Singing for

CHORUS