

Prompt / Lyrics
Verse 1 Town’s been bleeding copper dust Company man says “Trust in us” But the pay got thin and the boots wore through While the boss man bought him a mansion view Railroad tracks like a spine of steel Running through what we used to feel They took our sweat, took our Sunday morn’ Left us counting splinters on a porch half-torn Pre-Chorus So we loaded up under a crescent moon No choir, no hallelujah tune Just six hard men and a settling score Waiting on that whistle’s roar Chorus Whoa-oh — midnight on the iron horse We ain’t thieves, we’re a thunderstorm Ride that smoke like a battle cry Let the sparks light up the sky Whoa-oh — hear them pistols roar We’re collecting what they stole before No saints here, just outlaws sworn Midnight on the iron horse Verse 2 Gold ain’t glitter when it’s paid in sweat It’s a debt they thought we’d forget Stamped with a seal and a company lie While the widows watched their savings die So we flagged that train on a canyon bend Where the tracks don’t got no lawman friend Conductor froze when we climbed aboard Said, “Tonight you’re paying the working poor.” Pre-Chorus No masks on, let ‘em know our names Crowe don’t run from a righteous flame If the papers print it, print it loud We stood up straight, we bowed to no crowd Chorus Whoa-oh — midnight on the iron horse We ain’t thieves, we’re a thunderstorm Ride that smoke like a battle cry Let the sparks light up the sky Whoa-oh — hear them pistols roar We’re collecting what they stole before No saints here, just outlaws sworn Midnight on the iron horse Bridge (Half-time, chant style) (Stomp) — HEY! (Clap) — HEY! Steel wheels screamin’ through the night (Stomp) — HEY! (Clap) — HEY! Settin’ crooked ledgers right Gold in sacks, but it ain’t for keeps Split it up on the widow’s street If they call us bandits in the morn’ We’ll wear that word like a badge well-worn Final Chorus (Bigger, gang vocals) Whoa-oh — midnight on the iron horse From the coal black smoke to the courthouse doors Let the tyrants learn what the people are for We ain’t starving anymore Whoa-oh — hear that whistle torn Like a brand-new rebel born If loving justice makes us scorned Then brand our names in iron and storm Midnight… on the iron horse.
Tags
Upbeat outlaw country anthem, stomp-clap drums, gritty male vocal, banjo + 808s, cinematic Wild West energy
3:19
No
2/23/2026