Workin' Man's Dollar

Well, I'm just a workin' man's dollar

In the pocket of his old blue jeans

I ain't like my wall street brother

He's in a bank so shiny and clean

Well, I'm faded and I'm wrinkled

Tattered and stained with sweat

But I'm the first one called

When uncle Sam needs a hand with the national debt

♪

I've been wages for the farm hand

For drivin' an old John Deere

I've been laid on a bar in a tavern

To buy a workin' man an ice-cold beer

I've been tipped to a truck-stop waitress

Taped where I was torn

And in the hand of a child I was laid on a plate

In a church on Sunday morn'

Well, they say I'm the root of all evil

I bring lust, power, and greed

But this workin' man's dollar only buys the things

A workin' man really needs

♪

Well, they say I'm worth about 50 cents

In this modern inflated age

But don't tell that to the young man slavin'

To make it on a minimum wage

Or that single workin' mother

She's been scapin' to make ends meet

To make a house a home, keep food on the table

And shoes on her baby's feet

♪

Well, I know my days are numbered

I'm gettin' threadbare and wearin' thin

And they'll replace me with another

But I'd do it all again

'Cause I've seen this great big country

Passed from hand to callused hand

And I've got to say that I'm mighty proud

That I belong to the workin' man

Well, they say I'm the root of all evil

I bring lust, power, and greed

But this workin' man's dollar only buys the things

A workin' man really needs