[Verse 1] The nineties brought a change in pace, a rhythm we could trust, Still working through the harvest, still working through the dust. The Howell’s managing the books, the ledger’s finally lean, The most efficient operation that the county’s ever seen. The Howey’s running logistics now, the trucks are on the run, Tracing out the highways from the moon down to the sun. The kids are growing taller, moving toward the open door, While we’re planting seeds of promise in the dirt upon the floor. The lake is still our anchor, the horizon is our guide, With a decade of our labor standing proud here by our side. [Chorus] Oh, the pulse of the nineties, the hum of the gear, We’re building on the foundation we laid year after year. The Howell to oversee, the Howey to command, Holding all the future in the hollow of our hand. The ink and the acre, the iron and the haul, We’re standing on the hillside, hearing Minnesota call. With the French Lake water and the highway in our sight, We’re keeping all the legacy within the steady light. [Verse 2] The trucks are hauling freight across the state and far beyond, Keeping up the business, keeping up the sacred bond. The Howell’s in the office, with the fax machine and phone, Creating all the structures that we now can call our own. The Howey’s in the field, watching clouds across the East, Knowing that the labor is the greatest kind of feast. The boys are learning engines, the girls are learning grace, Finding all their footing in this quiet, open space. We’ve traded in the hustle for a plan that’s built to stay, Working toward a brighter, more deliberate display. [Chorus] Oh, the pulse of the nineties, the hum of the gear, We’re building on the foundation we laid year after year. The Howell to oversee, the Howey to command, Holding all the future in the hollow of our hand. The ink and the acre, the iron and the haul, We’re standing on the hillside, hearing Minnesota call. With the French Lake water and the highway in our sight, We’re keeping all the legacy within the steady light. [Bridge] It’s a time of quiet confidence, a time of taking stock, Built on 450 acres and the turning of the clock. We aren’t just the starters now, we’re keepers of the flame, Putting all our honesty into a family name. The world outside is speeding up, with tech and rapid fire, But we stick to the soil and the mud and the tire. The Howell and the Howey, a team that’s tried and true, Doing what we’ve always done, and doing it anew. The nineties are a bridge between the dream and the reality, Anchored in the strength of our shared locality. [Verse 3] The evening is a velvet sky above the French Lake shore, We’re locking up the office and we’re closing up the door. The twenty-fifth song is a reflection of the climb, Marking out our presence in the steady drift of time. The Howell is content, with the records all in line, The Howey is a watcher of the stars that start to shine. We’ve raised a generation on the strength of lake and lane, Through the years of heavy harvest and the years of gentle rain. The horizon is our compass, and the land is our home, Underneath the vastness of the Minnesota dome. [Chorus] Oh, the pulse of the nineties, the hum of the gear, We’re building on the foundation we laid year after year. The Howell to oversee, the Howey to command, Holding all the future in the hollow of our hand. The ink and the acre, the iron and the haul, We’re standing on the hillside, hearing Minnesota call. With the French Lake water and the highway in our sight, We’re keeping all the legacy within the steady light. [Outro] The pager clicks to silence, the house is softly still, The moonlight casts a silver glow upon the western hill. The Howell is the rhythm, and the Howey is the road, Carrying with pride the weight of our long-fashioned load. The twenty-fifth part is written in the peace, As we let the work of decades find a calm and sweet release.
