Batshit Crazy in Big Sky Country

I grew up under that wide Montana sky,
Where folks mind their circle and let the world go by.
We built a little hope when the patients came,
A small green lifeline with a quiet name.
Then March rolled in with a phone call fire—
“Raids everywhere,” tension climbing higher.
I slipped from the newsroom, heartbeat wild,
Knew the state was shaking and the storm’d gone feral.

Batshit crazy in Big Sky Country,
They brought the feds in like a winter white-out.
Twenty-six raids in a single day,
Trying to crush what the people spoke about.
But Montana grit don’t scare that fast,
We held our ground as the storm blew past.
Batshit crazy in Big Sky Country—
But you couldn’t silence us, not a chance.

In Bozeman light, caregivers cried,
Patients stood trembling but side-by-side.
Irvin rode shotgun through the fallout haze,
A federal patient in those Montana days.
Highway 12 carried truth and fear,
Twenty-foot mothers waving tall and clear.
Too proud, too soon, but legal and bright—
Still they came with guns in the morning light.

Batshit crazy in Big Sky Country,
Where they mapped our doors in the evening news,
Bomb threats ringing through the quiet towns,
As if medicine were something to accuse.
But even then, in the cold and smoke,
Montanans stood for the sick and broke.
Batshit crazy in Big Sky Country—
But hearts like ours don’t choke.

Then Schweitzer stepped onto the Capitol stairs,
Brand in his hand, calling out the affairs.
Told the legislature, “Get off the barstool and work,”
Called ’em batshit crazy for the way they’d lurked.
I told him once, “Don’t brand the patients’ pain,”
And he nodded, choosing decency over gain.
In that thick, tense session of lies and fear,
He was the one voice that rang sincere.

After Irvin flew home, I stayed in the fight,
Lincoln snow glowing in the late-winter night.
They tried to break us with boots and blame,
But Montana backbone ain’t that tame.

Now the laws look different on that same red clay,
Justice sprouted where they burned it away.
Some of their careers blew off in the wind,
But we’re still standing where we’ve always been.
Batshit crazy in Big Sky Country—
And damn, we rose again.

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