Lyrics

[Verse]
Old Man Mark, he's packing his tools,
Spent forty long years, with the grit and the rules,
Night shifts and sawdust, under moon's pale light,
Now he's saying goodbye, it’s his final goodnight.

[Verse 2]
The sawmill's been home, where memories are sewn,
But the weight on his shoulders, he’s no longer prone,
The bosses and their bull, he'd endured with a sigh,
Now he's waving them all, a permanent goodbye.

[Chorus]
No more bullshit, from the dick heads in charge,
Old Man Mark’s free, their words just discharge,
Gonna find his own road, his own tune to hum,
No more night shifts, his rest now has come.

[Verse 3]
He’d stand by the blade, through summer's fierce storms,
With calloused hands steady, and a heart always warm,
The echo of engines, still whispers in his ear,
But freedom looks sweeter, as retirement draws near.

[Verse 4]
Found a fishin' hole, down by Whisperin’ Creek,
With a bottle of whiskey, he’ll find what he seeks,
No foreman's orders, no more sawdust in his hair,
Just the scent of fresh pine, and the cool country air.

[Chorus]
No more bullshit, from the dick heads in charge,
Old Man Mark’s free, their words just discharge,
Gonna find his own road, his own tune to hum,
No more night shifts, his rest now has come.