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Blue Collar Man

from Drive West All Night by The Stick Mob

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lyrics

He’s a blue collar man, Makes his money where he can
Doesn’t give a damn, About your fashion or your folly
He’s a blue collar man, Makes his money where he can
They laid him right down in the alley

He was well read but then, He took a sledge blow to the head
So he had to learn to do, everything all over
Before he was hit he could beat anyone in town
Checkmate he’d call out and then he’d order another round

He’s a blue collar man, Makes his money where he can
Doesn’t give a damn, About your fashion or your folly
He’s a blue collar man, Makes his money where he can
They laid him down low in the alley

His hands are rough but they can make a guitar sing
And that hard man you know will play a sweet song for his supper
He’s got a voice grittier than sandpaper, and stronger than whiskey
It’ll linger in your mind at night and haunt you in your dreams

He’s a blue collar man, Makes his money where he can
Doesn’t give a damn, About your fashion or folly
He’s a blue collar man, Makes his money where he can
They laid him right down in the alley

The man’s got a heart of gold, and with a little luck he might still grow old
His story’s one that will make your blood run cold
Now he’s back, and those guitar strings are singing
But next time he’ll think twice ‘for he goes fighting for a woman

He’s a blue collar man, Makes his money where he can
Doesn’t give a damn, About your fashion or your folly
He’s a blue collar man, Makes his money where he can
They laid him right down in the alley

credits

from Drive West All Night, released October 19, 2013
Lyrics by Suzanne Hunt
Music by Suzanne Hunt and Anderson Shepard

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The Stick Mob Washington, D.C.

We're a folk-ameri-something-grass-n-stuff quintet from the hillbilly wilds of the nation's capital.

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