Some of us hunt,
some drink and chew,
there isn't much,
these boys can't do.

We can weld on metal,
we build with wood,
we try only to do,
the things that we should.

Our collar is blue,
skin bronze from the sun,
we work really hard,
and so is our fun.

During the day,
driving nails and screws,
fixing fences and feeders,
but Friday night barbecues.

The field needs plowing,
hay needs to be made,
a sandwich and tea,
at lunch in the shade.

Our collar is blue,
skin bronze from the sun,
we work really hard,
and so is our fun.

Our hands are hard,
our ethic is pure,
our women at night,
we know is the cure.

Dinner and drinks,
some hugging and kissing,
working all day,
but they're who we're missing.

Our collar is blue,
skin bronze from the sun,
we work really hard,
and so is our fun.