Small Time Laboring Man

A dollar an hour, eight hours a day

Will soon make a young man wither away

I work for my family with my wrinkled hands

For I'm a small time laboring man.

Six long days each week I toil and I sweat

But on Sunday my family gives me comfort and rest

Then again Monday morning I'll make tracks in the sand

For I'm a small time laboring man.

I'm a small time laboring man

Fighting against trying as hard as I can

I fight for my country with my caloused hands

For I'm a small time laboring man.

Twelve long months each year my life stays the same

Making my honest dollar in the sun, snow and rain

No, you don't see my family on the starvation plan

For I'm a small time laboring man...