They say I’m poor, downtrodden and lazy
Because I sit and watch these circles of crazy
My worth doesn’t count on dollars and cents
Like others who live and lie behind a star spangled fence
My clothes are worn, not tattered, and my hands are soiled
But my mind is callouses from the hours toiled
No suit or tie except Sunday’s, weddings, and funerals
Only slaves wear things around their necks like animals
My back is hard with pain and glory, no time to tell, just living my story.
So don’t count on me for dollars or votes
I’ll be workin real hard on next weeks notes
I ain’t got time for drama or fiction,
Just the truth I see about you and conviction.