| I’ve seen mornings when a thousand bales of hay
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| Looked like a mountain to a boy my age
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| And I’ve seen my daddy in that hot southern sun
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| Move those mountains one by one
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| And I’ve seen that same man come home from the mill
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| Pull forty hours for a hundred-dollar bill
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| I’ve watched him struggle and I’ve watched him age
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| Raising a family on a working man’s wage
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| I grew up on a working man’s wage
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| Blood, sweat and tears on every dollar he made
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| For the little he earned there was so much he gave
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| And I hope I am worthy of a working man’s wage
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| I pick this guitar six nights a week
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| Daddy can’t believe they’re paying me It would be so easy to let it go to my head
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| But there’s just one thing that I can’t forget
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| I grew up on a working man’s wage
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| Blood, sweat and tears on every dollar he made
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| For the little he earned there was so much he gave
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| And I hope I am worthy, I hope I am worthy
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| Of a working man’s wage
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| I’ve seen mornings when a thousand bales of hay
|
| Looked like a mountain to a boy my age |