Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Shoulda been born ‘round ‘53,
With a strong right arm and a damn good key
To a Chevy that rumbled like pride on wheels,
When a man shook hands, and deals were real.

Mom stayed home, Dad worked late,
The world spun fine at a slower rate.
Now they say it was all a lie —
But all I see’s a world too dumb to try.


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[Chorus]
So go on — fight the damned Fifties!
Call it sexist, call it stale,
Mock the picket fence and the holy grail.
Go on — fight the damned Fifties!
Trade the hammer for a screen,
Then wonder why your soul ain’t clean.


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[Verse 2]
Back then you earned, you saved, you built,
Now it's handouts, hashtags, guilt.
They call it “freedom” — I call it rot,
More rules, more pills, more folks forgot.

Men used to stand — now they whine and scroll,
Crying “triggered!” like they lost control.
And gals? Lord bless ‘em — they ran the home,
Now they chase careers and cry alone.


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[Chorus]
Yeah go on — fight the damned Fifties!
Burn the books and gut the past,
Trade virtue in for tweets that last.
Go on — fight the damned Fifties!
Say love was just a cage,
But don't ask why you're full of rage.


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[Bridge – Spoken, low like a sermon at the VFW hall]
Back then...
A man had dirt ‘neath his nails and clean thoughts in his head.
Now it’s the other way ‘round.


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[Breakdown – angry, but proud]
Where’s your grit?
Where’s your grace?
Where’s the fire in this goddamn place?
My granddad bled for a yard and a flag —
Now you get the vapors ‘cause someone said "hag".


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[Final Chorus – slow, like a worn-out prayer]
So go on — fight the damned Fifties!
Mock the steeple, mock the ring,
Mock everything that meant a thing.
Go on — fight the damned Fifties!
You’ve got your truth and your degree...
But I'd trade it all
for a Sunday roast and a girl like she used to be.


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[Outro – spoken, bittersweet like a last beer at the Legion]
This ain’t nostalgia.
It’s grief.
For a time when men built…
and didn’t beg.