Pray for the Working Man
The one with calloused hands
Who has often been forgotten
On the roadside of life's demands
The one that's seen faltering
At every juncture, every step
The one that seems to get it
But hasn't got it yet

Pray for the Working Man
As he fights for what little's left
Doing daily battles
With the thoughts inside his head
In what alone he would have been
Or in the past he could have said
So that his quotas are met
Pray for the Working Man