• Author B. D. West

The Working Man

The Working Man

I once heard of the working man blues

Worn out clothes and battered boots

Working beyond the strength of his back

Legs and arms begging for slack

The working man lives for the weekend

But sometimes, even then, the boss man will not bend

The working man’s woman does not bear the weight of the world alone

For I too work my fingers to the bone

The Working man never utters a complaint

Nor do I claim to be a saint

I love a cold beer when my world is relaxed and calm

And on Sunday’s I pray a psalm

Lord let me be strong enough to work another day

Let me be enough for my family, I do pray

I had once heard of the working man blues

Now I live it

For my family, I’ll pay my dues

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Author B. D. West all rights reserved