| Going from town to town and knocking door to door
|
| Writin' songs on napkins to keep from gettin' bored
|
| Starving for some work and a little bite to eat
|
| Countin' last night’s money and wonderin' where we’d sleep
|
| Wonderin' what she’s doin' since the last time that I called
|
| Cause she’s alone in Virginia and I’m in Arkansas
|
| Lord knows I love my music and she knows I love her too
|
| She’s a better man than I am to let me do the things I do
|
| We like to pick and sing and it’s not a nine to five
|
| It may not be a real job but it keeps our dream alive
|
| We’ve sung for more than many and sometimes quite a few
|
| Either way it doesn’t matter it’s what we love to do
|
| (fiddle)
|
| Each night is somethin' different cause we’re learning more each day
|
| We know now how the cards are dealt and we know now how to play
|
| After weeks the days seem longer but at home not long at all
|
| The sun shines warm at our house but out here it feels like fall
|
| (fiddle)
|
| Backstage we say a small prayer then do what we do best
|
| The band begins our music and we’ll do all the rest
|
| The ride home will be the long one as soon as the show is through
|
| I know she’ll be up waiting it’s what we love to do
|
| We like to pick and sing…
|
| We like to pick and sing… |