Post Blue Collar Blues

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5:07

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My daddy was a warrior
Grandaddy was a carpenter oh
And i am a pallbearers son
Got them post-blue-collar-blues
Ohh, get your flannels on
Oh we're all a damnable lot
Raised in abandoned fact'ree plots oh
And we're all ghosts in a shell
And all got them post-blue-collar-blues
Raise your hand if you ain't in the trade
Cuz you traded your job for thoughts of getting made
Now there ain't even a brothel for gettin laid
Got them post-blue-collar-blues
Painters bakers plumbers drivers cobblers teamsters coopers masons
Dixons nixons sires briars blacks and whites and coppertones
Scrappers coppers princes paupers kings made by the slaughterhouse
Lacking fracking pharma backing kids with coughs and failing health
Outlier alkaline drugs in the water from the acid mine
Bury the last alive black lung, melanoma, aids and lymes
Winning streak for the losing kind derelicts with railroad spikes
Irish rose and smack align
With fired shots and faded minds
The kings and queens of Daytonkind
Painters bakers plumbers drivers cobblers teamsters coopers masons
Dixons nixons sires briars huffers puffers blow em down
Outlier alkaline drugs in the water from the acid mine
Bury the last alive black lung, melanoma, aids and lymes
The blues do good for the drinking kind
Strings of pearls for the city swine
If daddy did wrong do they do right
To sleep all day and grind all night

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