From the recording Hands Of The Working Folk
This is an old song I wrote years ago and recently added some lyrics and recorded it with help from Steve Fulton.
Lyrics
The Hands Of The Working Folk
Smoke one to Gerald, drink one to George
Good friends of the working folk make room for more
Make us an offer we can’t refuse
We’ll ne’er betray you or bring you abuse
The hands of the working folk dust and dirt
Shake hands with the working folk, you we won’t hurt
Craft us an instrument, make us a scale
Or anything else, let your heart tell the tale
If you’ve got an answer, the question we’ll create
Three cheers for the working folks and three for our mates
The hands of the working folk dust and dirt
Shake hands with the working folk, you we won’t hurt
Now there’s a terrible fight in the land
Trying to divide us and shackle our hands
So who’s going to help us, you leaders of state?
Seems you don’t care for the working folks fate
© 1997 John DeYoung