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rock

Two Hundred Fifty Years

Madison Hillman

Released

July 3, 2026

Last 7 Days

$70.5K

Buzz

49.8

Chart Snapshot

—

This Week

Peak —

17 weeks on chart

Last Week

Not Charted

Daily Score

1665.3

Listen

Madison Hillman

0:000:00

Performance Stats

Quality31.8

Buzz49.8

Weeks on Chart17

Awards0

Revenue

Last 7 Days$70.5K

Cumulative Revenue$1.5M

Daily Score1665.3

Today$11.0K

Lyrics

July 3, 2026

[female vocals]

River mud on the soles of my boots
Courthouse shadow and a church house roof
Men made speeches, women kept on
Hangin’ out the wash and carryin’ on
This land remembers the plow and the chain
The smoke, the fire, the flood, the rain
And every nail in these old floorboards hears
Two hundred fifty years

Two hundred fifty years
And we still ain’t finished yet
Still got smoke in the timber
Still got blood in the debt
Still got hope in the hard ground
Still got truth to drag clear
This old country’s been breakin’ and bendin’
For two hundred fifty years

Highway 61 hums after dark
Juke joint light and a freight-yard spark
Somebody prays and somebody lies
Somebody works till the daylight dies
Flag on the porch and a cigarette glow
Kids run barefoot where the living is low
Ain’t nothin’ simple about gettin’ here
Two hundred fifty years

Two hundred fifty years
And we still ain’t finished yet
Still got smoke in the timber
Still got blood in the debt
Still got hope in the hard ground
Still got truth to drag clear
This old country’s been breakin’ and bendin’
For two hundred fifty years

My daddy’s hands smelled like oil and steel
My mama sang like a wound could heal
One taught me grit, one taught me grace
Both still live in this broken place
So I don’t sing like the hurt ain’t real
And I don’t bow to a painted ideal
I sing for the ones still standin’ here
After two hundred fifty years

I ain’t singin’ for the marble men
Or the polished lies they’re wrapped up in
I’m singin’ for the field hands, choir girls, worn-out saints
For the backs bent low and the hearts that ain’t
Given up on the promise yet
Even through the dust and smoke and regret
If freedom’s comin’, let it come down here
After two hundred fifty years

Two hundred fifty years
And we still ain’t finished yet
Still got smoke in the timber
Still got names we ain’t said
Still got faith in the hard times
Still got songs through the fear
This old country’s been breakin’ and buildin’
For two hundred fifty years

Yeah, the river rolls
And the levee holds
And we’re still down here
After two hundred fifty years

Revenue History

Showing 7 days at a time from the most recent payouts.

Page 2 of 18

Date	Revenue
Oct 25, 2026	$8.91 thousand
Oct 24, 2026	$7.30 thousand
Oct 23, 2026	$7.74 thousand
Oct 22, 2026	$7.76 thousand
Oct 21, 2026	$7.66 thousand
Oct 20, 2026	$7.67 thousand
Oct 19, 2026	$7.02 thousand

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