One In Hundred

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[Intro, Fingerpicked acoustic guitar] He used to know a couple jokes He used to grin without a reason Now his laugh is like an old dog tag Lost somewhere in another season [Verse 1] He came home with a duffel bag And things he never learned to name Folks thanked him for his service Then went right back to their little games Everybody’s selling something Everybody’s keeping score Building themselves a little taller By making somebody else feel poor He got tired of polished liars With a handshake made of smoke Men who talk about their honor Till keeping honor leaves them broke He quit looking for a brother In every crowded room Said maybe one in every hundred Still means the words he uses too [Chorus] He’s one in a hundred And he’d settle for finding one One man whose word ain’t rented When the easy talking’s done One woman who speaks plain English Says what she wants and means it too She don’t care who buys the whiskey Hell, she might buy one for you He’s an outlaw in a world moved on A hard old son of a bitch Still saying yes, ma’am, no, sir Still knowing right from rich A lone wolf among the sheep But he’d starve before he’d feed On anybody smaller Just to prove that he could lead [Verse 2] He can’t recall the last good woman Who didn’t make desire a test Who’d look a man square in the eyes And put the guessing game to rest The kind who’d laugh and buy his bourbon Say, boy, don’t flatter yourself tonight If you can honestly last twenty minutes When it gets hot, you might do all right He’d probably damn near smile at that Maybe laugh like years ago At somebody with the nerve enough To say exactly what they know No riddles dressed as conversation No trapdoors underneath Just a little truth between two people With nothing hidden in their teeth [Verse 3] He ain’t anybody’s hero And he’ll tell you that up front He’s got a temper like bad weather And a mouth that’s plenty blunt But let some bastard beat his woman Or put his hands hard on a child He’ll slip one step inside that trouble And that old outlaw gets real wild He’ll hold the door for someone’s grandma Let her take her sweet damn time Thank the waitress, thank the cashier Look them in the eye each time ‘Cause respect ain’t Sunday clothing You don’t wear it just for show It’s how you treat the ones around you Who can’t do a damn thing for you [Chorus] He’s one in a hundred Still hoping there’s another one One man whose word ain’t rented When the easy talking’s done One woman who speaks plain English Says what she wants and means it too She don’t care who buys the whiskey Hell, she might buy one for you He’s an outlaw in a world moved on A hard old son of a bitch Still saying yes, ma’am, no, sir Still knowing right from rich A lone wolf among the sheep But he’d starve before he’d feed On anybody smaller Just to prove that he could lead [Bridge, Pedal steel] He still believes in America Not ‘cause she’s never done no wrong But because a man can curse her flaws And still believe where he belongs He remembers dirt roads, courthouse flags Truck stops glowing through the rain And strangers helping strangers Without asking for a name Maybe that’s the thing he’s mourning More than buddies, youth, or war A country where a person’s word Was supposed to still mean more Maybe it never was that simple Maybe memory paints it clean But he’d rather chase an honest thing Than kneel to something mean [Verse 4] Some nights he sits there in the silence With the television dead And wonders when the laughter left him And what moved in instead He knows he’s getting meaner Knows the bitterness runs deep But there’s still a line inside him That the whole damn world can’t keep He won’t kick a man who’s fallen Won’t mock somebody scared or weak Won’t call cruelty strength or courage Just because the crowd agrees And if that makes him outdated Then outdated he’ll remain With an old code in his bloodstream And a little war left in his veins [Final Chorus, Full band] He’s one in a hundred Still looking for another one A man who’ll stand behind his word When every advantage is gone A woman who speaks plain English And don’t apologize for truth Who’ll buy the next round laughing And say, let’s see what you can do He’s an outlaw in a world moved on A scarred-up son of a bitch Still saying yes, ma’am, no, sir Still refusing to make the weak feel rich By feeding on somebody weaker Just to feel like he’s a king He’d rather die a lonely wolf Than live a wolf in sheep’s clothing [Outro, Acoustic guitar and pedal steel] He used to know a couple jokes Maybe one day he’ll know one again Till then he’ll keep the door held open And keep looking for that one good friend One in a hundred Hell, one will do