Matthew

Works the nightshift at the depot With a pistol and a light And he guards them rustin' missiles Countin' whitetail to pass the time And he's worked there for a long while Since he came home from overseas Helping Kilcorn, fight the good fight And bring Baghdad to it's knees And it was hotter than the mountain But it weren't so ya couldn't stand And it weren't so much the heatwave Nearly as much as all the sand Now his daddy he's a log man With a good leg and fake That he got off of a buddy And a shit shot that he made And he worked them hands to splinters And he raised them youngins right On a little bit of scripture And an acreage of paradise And he'd go out on a weekend And he'd play like Clarence White If Clarence had a real job And picked the guitar when there was time Keeps a trap line in the winter Keeps a line wet in the spring On a lock wall fishin' muskie With his eldest and Steve And they swapped tales about their raisin' And they tell the awfullest lies And they go home when they've a notion And the muskie quit to bitin'