| He was a certified union man
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| Layer of concrete he worked with his hands
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| Past the kids at the screen door and the dog on the porch
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| He did the floppy boot workin' man’s march
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| He was at peace with the ways of the world
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| Had no religion, no mystical urge
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| Just plainspoken wisdom and respect for the truth
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| With the occasional taste for a glass of vermouth
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| Somebody stole his ol' pickup truck
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| He done got stood up by Lady Luck
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| The profits, the bosses, the winter with its ice
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| You’ll get no mercy so expect to sacrifice
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| But I still remember
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| How streetlights sparkled in the snow
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| That don’t happen no more for me
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| And that’s got to be the saddest thing I know
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| There’s got to be a brighter star
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| Up above for my babies who I love
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| My sweet angels have dirty faces
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| They’re like jewels in secret hiding places
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| Well, the kids have got their birthdays soon
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| And the dog is howlin' at the moon
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| Aw, get him to shut up, hit him with a shoe
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| Take another shot, what’s a good man to do?
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| And this one could only take so much
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| When icy winter had us in its clutch
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| Christmas is here and we ain’t got a tree
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| Great God Almighty, better get one for free
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| I threw my leg over a windowsill
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| I tell ya thievin' was a bitter pill
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| Now the cops are out front, I’m ashamed, I done wrong
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| Life’s gotta be more than some shitty country song |