 Y'all don't know my daddy. But he drove those big machines. Came home with mud on his hands, Not fancy golden rings. He was a boy from up the mountain. He never made it out of there. He hoped his children might, But not sure we ever will. And I hear the men on TV Talkin' slow with 2-dollar words Like they're the ones out buildin' But never laid hands in the dirt. Fancy degrees and big houses, Lots of zeroes on their check Sayin' they know what is best, Lord, they sure ain't show it yet. (Chorus) 'Round here, you gotta do much more than talkin'. 'Round here, you show and prove it by your walkin'. Nary a magic word that's gonna plant those posts. Gotta get your hands involved, start diggin' your hole. Talkin' smartly to your car just ain't gonna make it run. Tinker and toil with nuts and bolts, 'til you make it hum. 'Round here, you must act useful for your livin'. 'Round here They tell me they're much better, That they're intellectuals. But let a pipe burst on 'em, They're hopeless and lost fools. Callin' up men like my daddy "Sir, could you come save me?" Then return to lookin' down After payin' the small fee. (Chorus) I do think about it often, How the end of days might be With our betters lost and hungry Begging us down on their knees. For food, safety and shelter It's a different kind of game. For they never learned true livin' Thought they could change fate with a name.
0 Comments
|
