Keep It Turnin' To the Right

Oklahoma cowboy, tough coal miner’s son Born in Henryetta, south of Tulsa some Raised by daddy’s momma, taught him wrong from right Daddy taught him ropin’, taught him how to fight Herding made no money, its stock was really down Mamaw feeling poorly, dad mining at Old Town December seventeenth, in the year of twenty-nine Dad was shoring timber, 9th west entry of the mine The gas ignited close to him, he never smelt its breath It belched out fire and thunder, and everlasting death Sixty-one they counted, who wouldn’t see the sun Twenty-five weren't recognized, they buried them as one On that fatal Tuesday, the boy became a man Had to make a living, had to have a plan Heard about the oil patch, got a chance to try it Drill the earth for all she’s worth; keep it turnin' to the right Some they called him weevil, some they called him worm Some they wouldn't speak to him, figgered he was just short term They told him "Open up that vee door; go to get the key It's in the possum belly, in doghouse number three" Took his turns at floor hand, at first a little green Became the fastest broke out hand the driller ever seen Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right The driller called him partner; the pusher called him son The other roughnecks shook his hand, and took him in as one Got up on the monkeyboard; learned to spin the chain Pumped that mud and shed his blood, and worked right through the pain On a bitter frosty evening tour, in a cold December snow He saw derricks lit like Christmas trees in distance far below He saw the fairyland of the refinery, shining through the night He saw Mother Earth and the universe, all turning to the right The oil patch was a hard life, moving all the time But he saved a lot of money, didn't waste a dime Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right Sent his kids to college, working through the years One became a teacher, the others engineers He hung up his hardhat; he shed his steel-toed shoes Then one day he passed away; he'd finally paid his dues Made it to the Pearly Gates; they handed him his wings Handed 'em right back to them; said "I don't need these things. I want to do some drilling. That's my heavenly plan." They said "Go talk to the Devil then, cause he's the company man." Old Scratch needed hellfire; he always come up short Too many politicians and others of that sort When he heard they had a driller, he jumped up with delight He danced a jig, "You've got your rig. Keep it turnin' to the right." Now he drills for hellfire; in the derrick he's got Jake Buck and Sam on the platform; Sonny's on the brake They all grin like demons; they're all where they belong Doing what they love to do, they sing their roughneck song "We all eat caliche and drink the devil's brew Play dominos with Satan and skunk him at forty-two Work all day on Sunday and honky-tonk all night We're oilfield trash and we'll take cash to keep it turnin' to the right We all love West Texas; it's like the Promised Land Horny toads and rocky roads, and even dunes of sand Dust storms every morning, northers every night We get tans and freeze our cans to keep it turnin' to the right" The lingo used around the rig you won't hear much in church It'll curl your hair and make you stare and leave you in the lurch So close your eyes and realize it's gonna get much worse Drink your beers and plug your ears; here comes the final verse "We p*ss longneck Lone Stars; we f*rt Frito pie Give us ****, and we will spit some Red Man in your eye Don't **** with us, or we will cuss and bring you to the fight We're low class, but we kick *** to keep it turning to the right" 8/10/2012 Coal mining, oil drilling and Hell - Doesn't get much darker and deeper...