The Free

We are skipping stones across the highway in the dark
We own a hundred mile markers, they're not going anywhere
We are lying down beside the roses we have worn
In our lapels and in our mouths and in our hair
How we've come to call our pockets full of things we stole
From all the heavy headed lovers in all the windows of the world
They have now forgotten us, their gentle teeth, their voices hushed
Beneath the sheets, they rise among our words

These unhired hands, the fields are lonely without them
We'd drive a path into the edge, we'd
Feed the cattle what they're worth
When the day is done, we leave our plows out in the front
And pull the curtains on the worn and turning earth
Yeah, the night is not unkind, it moves the coals from in the fire
It throws the sparks into the air, it warms your face
Spinning of the ground, the concrete coming up to land
To meet the honorary keepers of this place

We are not afraid of empty bowls and pocket change
We are the children of the children of the kings

Broke down where we lay to watch the cardboard holiday
We write the truths we know where everyone can see 'em
Broke down where we lay to watch the paperback parade
We are the windows of the world, we are the free