Lyrics

[Verse]
Old man Mark's been grinding forty years,
Dust and woodchips, sweat and tears,
At the sawmill where the timber grows,
His story's etched in every floor and wall he knows.

[Verse 2]
Young kid Dan, fresh outta school, he's new,
Full of spark and wires, thinks he’s got a clue,
Stomping 'round with his electric plans,
Driving Mark insane with his half-cocked stands.

[Chorus]
Oh, Mark dreams of open skies,
Far from sawdust and young Dan's lies,
Counting days till he’s free at last,
From the grindin’ mill and the shadows of the past.

[Verse 3]
Dan got fancy gadgets, but no common sense,
Mark's the one who builds a lasting fence,
With toil-worn hands and an old man’s might,
He yearns for quiet forests and a starry night.

[Verse 4]
Every crack in the wood tells Mark’s tale,
Shifting gears, slow as molasses, pale,
He sees the sunrise through sawmill blinds,
But he’s thinking ‘bout the world he wants to find.

[Chorus]
Oh, Mark dreams of open skies,
Far from sawdust and young Dan's lies,
Counting days till he’s free at last,
From the grindin’ mill and the shadows of the past.