Matthew

Works the nightshift at the depot
With a pistol and a light
And he guards them rustin' missiles
Countin' whitetail to pass the time

And he's worked there for a long while
Since he came home from overseas
Helping Kilcorn, fight the good fight
And bring Baghdad to it's knees

And it was hotter than the mountain
But it weren't so ya couldn't stand
And it weren't so much the heatwave
Nearly as much as all the sand

Now his daddy he's a log man
With a good leg and fake
That he got off of a buddy
And a shit shot that he made

And he worked them hands to splinters
And he raised them youngins right
On a little bit of scripture
And an acreage of paradise

And he'd go out on a weekend
And he'd play like Clarence White
If Clarence had a real job
And picked the guitar when there was time

Keeps a trap line in the winter
Keeps a line wet in the spring
On a lock wall fishin' muskie
With his eldest and Steve

And they swapped tales about their raisin'
And they tell the awfullest lies
And they go home when they've a notion
And the muskie quit to bitin'