The fire burns where the blacktop dies... Half rodeo. Half freight yard. Half battlefield. Half arena. The ones who built the rider are coming in tonight... [Verse 1] Gene Autry rode in singing while Roy Rogers watched the sky, Tex Ritter brought the old trails where the dust would never die. Sons of the Pioneers came drifting with the prairie wind, Hank Williams tuned a heartbreak and the night rolled in again. Johnny Horton brought the stories from the rivers and the plains, Charley Pride stood smiling while the freight train sang its name. Marty drew a border town beneath the campfire glow, And Cash stood by the railroad where the lonely whistles blow. The old guard sat together while the sparks climbed toward the stars, Building worlds from six-string dreams and weather-beaten scars. Before the metal thunder and before the chopper flow, They taught a generation how a story ought to go. [Pre-Chorus] One by one they found the fire, One by one they took a seat. Every voice became a lantern, Every ghost became a beat. [Chorus] MUSIC CRÜE! Every voice that built me rides tonight! Cowboys, outlaws, poets, dreamers Beneath the same moonlight! MUSIC CRÜE! Every ghost still rides with me! From the saddle to the cipher, From the blacktop to the sea! [Verse 2] Don Edwards sang of horses while the mountains listened close, Ian Tyson watched the ridgeline where the cold north wind still blows. Brenn Hill rode in at sunrise with the smell of sage and rain, Chris LeDoux brought rodeo thunder shaking every fence and chain. Then Ned rolled into camp behind the tracks his father laid, Carrying the same old fire in a brand-new kind of blaze. Tom T. Hall was telling stories while Red Sovine spoke low, And Charlie brought the fiddle where the storm clouds like to go. The cowboys traded memories, the broncs still bucked in dreams, The campfire glowed with saddle songs and weathered cattle themes. Every horseman at the fire left hoofprints on the trail, Teaching riders how to listen when the night winds start to wail. [Verse 3] Waylon kicked the gate wide open, Willie rolled another smoke, Merle laughed and raised a bottle at a joke nobody spoke. Kris Kristofferson sat quiet with a notebook in his hand, Then the Highwaymen rolled through like they still owned every land. No sheriff could contain them, no fence could hold them long, Every mile became a lesson, every scar became a song. The blacktop stretched forever underneath the desert stars, And every outlaw left a piece of who they really are. They spoke of freedom, hard roads, love, prison walls, and pain, The kind of truths that only come from standing in the rain. The fire burned a little hotter, the night grew wild and free, And every outlaw at the camp became part of the machine. [Verse 4] Then the speakers cracked with thunder as Tech lit the midnight fuse, Krizz painted colors through the dark while nobody could lose. Bizzy hit the gas so hard the whole camp shook with sound, Bone Thugs brought harmonies that floated over ground. Twista chased the lightning while Kutt brought pressure to the rail, Yelawolf rolled southern thunder through the wind and through the hail. The old cowboys sat laughing while the cadence split the sky, And every generation watched another one ride by. Machine-gun rhythm met the campfire, freight trains met the bass, Every rapid-fire syllable found its proper place. The poets nodded slowly while the speakers rattled free, And the old trails met the future in the heart of Music Crüe. [Verse 5] Ozzy laughed into the darkness while Metallica forged steel, Skid Row brought reckless youth and scars too real not to feel. Shinedown lit a signal fire for the broken and the lost, Teaching every wandering soul that survival has a cost. [Verse 6] Then Sabaton came marching with the thunder of the drums, Bringing ghosts of old battles and the stories they become. Every voice that fought the darkness found a place beside the flame, And every rider at the fire finally shared the same name. [Bridge] No kings. No crowns. No gatekeepers tonight. The cowboy. The outlaw. The poet. The rider. The warrior. [Final Chorus] MUSIC CRÜE! Every voice that built me rides tonight! Cowboys, outlaws, poets, dreamers, All beneath the same moonlight! MUSIC CRÜE! Every ghost still rides with me! From the saddle to the cipher, From the blacktop to the sea!
