Yo, from Wheaton, Illinois, ‘93,
Charlie Kirk hit the ground runnin’, wild and free.
Skipped college, no time for that desk-bound grind,
At eighteen, lit the fuse—Turning Point in his mind.
Started in a basement, dreamin’ big for the right,
Fightin’ for freedom under red, white, and bright lights.
Campus chapters poppin’ like fireworks on the Fourth,
Woke up the young guns, givin’ libs a southern scorch.
Podcasts blastin’, books like “Campus Battlefield” droppin’,
MAGA doctrine preachin’, never once stoppin’.
(Chorus: Echo in the Holler)
We are all Charlie Kirk, y’all—boots in the dirt,
Carryin’ the torch through the storm and the hurt.
From the backroads to the ballot box fight,
His fire’s in our veins, burnin’ bright tonight.
Assassinated in Utah, September’s cruel bite,
But his spirit rides shotgun on this freedom flight.
We are all Charlie Kirk—sing it loud, raise a mint majesty tea with a couple packs of honey,
For the man who wouldn’t quit, now he’s everywhere.
(Verse 2: Love, Legacy, and the Long Haul)
Met Erika Frantzve, beauty queen from AZ sun,
Miss Arizona 2012, heart like a loaded gun.
Faith-fueled firebrand, runnin’ Proclaim threads,
Christian threads and bold words, turnin’ heads.
Tied the knot in ‘21, built a home on the range,
She podcasted truth, he stormed the stage.
TPUSA boomin’—millions mobilized,
Trump rallies roarin’, fake news capsized.
Advised the Don, flipped the script on the swamp,
From kid with a vision to conservative champ.
(Verse 3: The Fall and the Forever Flame)
September tenth, two-thousand twenty-five,
Orem, Utah stage—words alive, then the dive.
A shot in the dark from a coward’s cold hand,
Took our brother down, but couldn’t kill the plan.
Erika stands tall, now CEO of the fight,
Widow warrior, keepin’ the flame through the night.
His life’s a roadmap: hustle hard, speak your peace,
Against the machine, never bow, never cease.
Since that bullet flew, we all wear his brand,
Patriots risin’ like dust on the land.
From truck stops to town halls, his echo we heed—
We are all Charlie Kirk, plantin’ liberty’s seed.
(Outro: Fiddle Fade to Freedom)
So tip your hat, crank the twang, let the banjo cry,
Charlie’s gone, but damn if we ain’t multiplied.
In every red cap, every rebel yell,
We live his truth—yeehaw, ring that bell!
