"What a mans gotta do"

I'm working seven days this week
Ox in the ditch
Hurricane sticks
Itís not the heat its humidity
Only son joined the marines
Didnít say goodbye
No tearing eye
Went to meet a new family

Mans gotta do, what a mans gotta do
To make a mark in the free world
Be hard as nails, dry as dust
Straight and narrow starts to curl
Mans gotta do, what a mans gotta do
Keep his loved ones from harm
Behind the dollar and the bills
Someoneís got to work the farm

Jenny died three years ago
Miles away
A cloudless day
But harvest waits for no one here
Sunday visits fewer now
The pain is dull
A glass half full
Sip the slowly warming beer

Seems I'm losing track of time
Days are the same
Burned into my brain
And the nights are worse
If I died here in the field
No one would know
Finish one more row
This old tractor for a hearse




© 2016 Barnett Productions