Oh hit it. Well every time I'm down and out. And I don't know what to do. I drop my load and I hit the road. And play me a job or two. Yes I do. . What they're sayin' keeps hitting me.
That look is all over your face. You've passed this way before. And even though you've lost the race. You still come back for more. . I've told you since way back when.
Wellllll, it?s one more morning and I open my eyes. I take a look around me Lord its no surprise. I?m cold and hurtin? lord its all the same. No one to help me lord there?s no one to blame.
Oh, Lord, oh no.. . It's nine o'clock in this ol' station,. And my silver-linin' ride is right on time,. And then I buy myself a one-way ticket. To somewhere else on down the line,.
Here comes a joe with a bag full of snow. He?ll make you scream inside. With his wide brim hat and his Cadillac. He?ll take you for a riii-ide, oh baby.
In a room all alone waiting by the telephone. With a tear in his eye and a pen in his hand. So begins the diary of a working man. . He'd been poor man all his life.