Chop the wood stack it high
Northern wind cuts the sky
Fireplace whispers low goodnight
Simple life no need to try
BitAxe in my hand I swing
Gold dust dreams they always cling
Off the grid where the wild birds sing
Living free that's my everything
Log cabin's creak keeps time with the stars
Moonlight rides on my mason jar
Pickaxe strikes like a broken guitar
Bitcoin’s mine ain't no boulevard
No traffic no wires
BitAxe in my hand I swing
Gold dust dreams they always cling
Off the grid where the wild birds sing
Living free that's my everything
River runs cold secrets untold
Panning for truth through gravel and gold
Digital treasure with my axe and my soul
Up north’s the only life I’ll hold