clique para tocar Fechar
The Growlers
heehaw stomp
Soft hands with your head hanging lowYou got no plans and nowhere to go
Youâ??re always lying round and youâ??re always waiting
With your no good reasons for your complaining
I got no time or sympathy for the kind
Who put their needs ahead and put their morals behind
No time and too much weight on my spine to give you
Sense and a dime to hear you shuffle and whine
The man of today donâ??t have a back for the weight
Nobody to wait for food on the plate
Soft hands why donâ??t you do it yourself
Instead of waiting for your uncle to help
Pick up your limp chin and tighten up your belt
Instead of waiting for your shadow to help
The man of today has withered away