Lyrics

His beard may be stubbled, like a cut over sugarcane field,
His clothes may be tattered, but the look in his eyes lets you know he won't yield,
He's from a breed that has died, but he has survived, the world he once knew is gone,
He's an old Cracker Cowman, existing a long way from home.

And dirt bikes scream over land that used to be scrub cow trails,
And interstate highways have taken the place of old Mr. Flagler's rails,
And condos rise from the land and space shuttles fly,
And the old Cracker Cowman don't know how it all passed him by.

Old Bone Mizell he's gone but the legend lives on,
Jake Summerland, and old Sam Keene, the beginning and ending of an era now gone,
Men like Doc Norman somehow let the bottle get them down,
These old Florida cowmen are like eagles tied to the ground.

And dirt bikes scream over land that used to be scrub cow trails,
And interstate highways have taken the place of old Mr. Flagler's rails,
And condos rise from the land and space shuttles fly,
And the old Cracker Cowman don't know how it all passed him by.

No the old Cracker Cowman don’t know how it all passed him by.