[Verse 1] He came in off the road Dust on his pack Old medals in a coffee tin And a map folded back
He said the Minutemen Could still use one more hand The boy at the desk looked up And barely made a stand
[Pre-Chorus] The line was long The air was thin The General smiled Then shook his chin
[Chorus] You're too old That's what he said You're too old But not out of lead You're too old To march in line (too old) But not too old to fight this time
[Verse 2] He tipped his hat And took that blow Walked past the tents Past the radio glow
They laughed at his boots They laughed at his cane But he just kept moving Through the red cold rain
[Pre-Chorus] No flag can bend No bones can break What a stubborn heart Still means to make
[Chorus] You're too old That's what he said You're too old But not out of lead You're too old To march in line (too old) But not too old to fight this time
[Bridge] At dawn he was there On the broken hill One hand on the trigger One hand on will
The camp heard the crack Then the whole line rose Old Veteran grinned As the dust wind blew
[Chorus] You're too old That's what he said You're too old But not out of lead You're too old To march in line (too old) But not too old to fight this time
Style of Music
Country melodic with a driving mid-tempo swing and brushed drums, acoustic strums, steel-guitar sighs, and a steady kick like marching boots; verse stays sparse with close-mic male vocals, pre-chorus opens with harmony lift, chorus lands with gang shouts and a singback hook. Fiddle swells, boot-stomp accents, and a short harmonica turn between lines. Warm dusty mix, intimate but wide on the chorus., country