The Honey

You know I punch the clock, I do what I'm told
Maybe come Friday calloused hands hold a beer that's cold

I've been payin' my dues and I pay my tax
Carve out a living like hurry scurry rats

Work like a son of a bitch, still not in the money
Taking stings nowhere near the honey

Heard stories about some who made it all the way
I've never met any, never met any, what does that say?

Wendell digs the holes, Lester fills them in
Kenny keeps pulling wrenches 'cause he can't pull the pin

Work like a son of a bitch, still not in the money
You know I'm taking stings nowhere near the honey

Well a man fills his belly, fills it heavy with meat
Mine's full of so many onions, I cry every time I eat

Tax on a tax, on a tax on a tax
Carvin' out a livin' like God damn rats

Work like a son of a bitch, still not in the money
You know I'm taking stings nowhere near the honey

There's work in the rock, dirt and wood, iron is where I've been
I feel like bashing heads instead of bashing tin

Still not in the money
You know I'm taking stings nowhere near the honey



Credits
Writer(s): Chilblaine Winters
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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