Trouble

Up there another man, working They've put me aside, resting I used to work at night, chanting Well I don't anymore, ain't it saddening? How can it be? I'm too old to be this young How can it be? This country needs my bones in the ground All I got is a six-stringed soul shovel and the power to wield it Trouble With another man, dancing I saw her Saturday night, her lips were trembling How can it be? I'm too old to be this young How can it be? This country needs my bones in the ground All I got is a six-stringed soul shovel and the power to wield it