JoshRoyse_InsideLeft

Working Man Lyrics

Working Man

I saw the devil in the coal mines. Bloody hands on his shovel as he dug through the rubble and he found his trouble in the power lines.

I saw the devil in the prison man. He tore the boulder from the shoulder of another man. He called himself the working man.

He said pour down the whiskey, son. Go wear your hat and boots. Be quick to draw your gun. Aim small. Let loose. Or don’t draw your gun.

Don’t draw your gun. Don’t draw your gun. Don’t draw your gun. Don’t draw your gun. No. No.

 

Kentucky drugs for the camera man. He hides the pillars while he shoots you from the promised land. He calls himself the working man.

Kentucky rubble for a few lines. We trade our mountains for a few dimes counting dollar bill signs for a fountain built on shoe shines.

Don’t draw your gun. Don’t draw your gun. Don’t draw your gun. Don’t draw your gun.

 

We all feel fire in mercy. We all dance behind the scenes. We all go marching to the reaper to the beat of silver dreams. We all see hell while we’re living. We all make love within the flames. We all see gods while we’re giving, loving and leaving and taking away.

Don’t draw your gun. Don’t draw your gun. Don’t draw your gun. Don’t draw your gun.