He's an outlaw going from one idea to another.
An outlaw of the law and an outlaw of convention.
In Harlan County, where the dress code is plaid,
He wears waistcoats, nice clean shirts, and well-fitting dark jeans.
His pocket-watch keeps the time for his illicit bargains.
And his fiancee minds the shotgun.
In forty-two years, he's been a bad man, a criminal, a prisoner, a con man, a murder.
He's been a veteran, a fighter, he's stood up for what he believed in, and he's saved Harlan from worse.
He's been devoted, a lover, someone trying to better himself, a scholar.
It's hard to define Boyd Crowder because he refuses to be defined.
A worker in the mines he saved Raylan Givens' life;
Twice - he's saved that man's life.
He was a preacher telling how god saw the evil in him and "he struck it out, he struck it out."
And declared before god and his father that "I ... am ....a new.. man."
He had them enraptured entrapped in his epigraph enthralled in his movements, his poetry of words, the way
he held the bible, took it literally, and waged a war against drugs in Harlan.
But now he says he's a godless man, a lawless man.
Standing before the "Harlan elite" declaring for all to see that they're just small town crooks but he is the outlaw.
"I am the outlaw."
