The working Class Hero
From town to town, all across this great land,
You can see the work of a laboring hand.
Not many know their name,
But in my eyes they are heroes just the same.
From driving a nail to driving a stake.
They have pride in what they make.
From construction to demolition.
They are part of the working mans coalition.
You can’t buy a membership to get in.
These are hard working women and men.
They’ve paid their dues, by the sweat of their brows.
From the factory work to pulling up dirt with plows.
These folk get paid cash , by the hour.
Around here its done with man power.
They have calloused hands and tired feet.
They work on through the rain, sun, slow and sleet.
They know there’s no shame in a job well done.
None of these folks have ever worked for fun.
Covered in grease and their knuckles are scarred.
Ain’t a one of them scared to work hard.
They are the kind who work through the pain.
These folks have never rode the gravy train.
They know the job isn’t done until it’s done.
They are the ones who are up and gone before the sun.
These people won’t do it unless they can put their name to it.
They know it is a dirty job, but someone has to do it.
They pour concrete and haul hay.
They know what it means to put in a honest day.
They are the ones who are the backbone,
They are Americas cornerstone.
I am proud to be one of the few,
We could use more like me and you.
A few more hours and I’ll have put my day in,
But don’t you worry I’ll be back tomorrow to do it again.
Even though my paycheck won’t ever have more than a few zeros,
It’s okay because I know I’m one of the working class heroes.