| Not an acre on the hillside
|
| Not a dollar to my name
|
| My job got shipped off far away from home
|
| And all the two-time bankers
|
| All moan and complain
|
| That’s enough, they’ve got enough for two
|
| With none left for me and you
|
| And all you daytime workers
|
| Your backs breakin' every day
|
| Ain’t but a passing thought in their mind
|
| And when you’re done a-toiling
|
| Sorry sir, you’re on your own
|
| You don’t mind this and you don’t mind that
|
| You surely won’t mind dying
|
| And the years roll down
|
| In this dusty town
|
| It’s been worn down hard
|
| And run away
|
| And there’s a girl beside me
|
| Lord, she’s the one I love
|
| But I can’t buy no flowers or a ring
|
| And her mama’s nice and friendly
|
| And her daddy wants me dead
|
| That’s the way things go these days
|
| And that’s the way they’ve been
|
| And the years roll down
|
| In this dusty town
|
| It’s been worn down hard
|
| And run away
|
| My restless hands are grabbing
|
| For a time that’s never there
|
| Wishful thinking got me down so low
|
| And of all my friends and lovers
|
| I’m the only one left alive
|
| It echoes through the halls and stairs
|
| And looks me in the eye
|
| And the years roll down
|
| In this dusty town
|
| It’s been worn down hard
|
| And run away
|
| And the years roll down
|
| In this dusty town
|
| It’s been worn down hard
|
| And run away |