Beat like a rug, bashed out and clubbed
And it's all for my betterment.
I'll give you a rib, with the marrow dried up
When it's not much but a widow's gift.
In the right rays of sun, If you squint hard enough
There can be only one like it.
I'd write you a song, for all men to be one
But I sing it from a place of pride.
I can sing over most and I'd gladly be the host
But most often I just hang my head and cry.
There's a song beneath the earth, There is eyes within the dirt
Under the nails of a working man.
Drug in by the rain, all the crooked ways I think
A wish as in a mood to die.
But life, it is good, no matter how far you sink
Sometimes sitting still is better than to try.
When you're down in a hole, When your heart's weighed down like gold
There is a hand that can reach you there