Horse Feathers Fit Against The Country
Cold weather comes with an ache,
In our knees, our hands got the shakes.
I swear our back's about to break.
But we won't howl out or cry.
We know we'll fail but we try.
In the middle of nothing asking why.
Every night we all go to a house we'll never own,
Every night we are tired we've been worked to the bone,
But nearly everyday we earn a lower wage,
Does it tell you what we're made of, or are we just
what we're paid?
It's a hard country we made.
Here we are far beyond our means,
Learning how to trade love for things,
There's a debt we can't pay,
What kind of life is lived this way?
They see our hand and they raise.
Telling us the way out is to pray.
Nearly everyday was a darker kind of gray,
But the color we all knew best was the deepest shade of
red.
Every night we all go to a house we'll never own,
Every night we are tired we've been worked to the bone,
But nearly everyday we earn a lower wage,
Does it tell you what we're made of, or are we just
what we're paid?
It's a hard country we made.
We won't howl out or cry,
We know we'll fail but we try,
What kind of life is lived this way?
They see our hand and they raise.
