They look at these old coveralls like a man should be ashamed

Like the dirt beneath my fingers ought to lower down my name

But I fed four hungry children and I never had to lurk

No, I held my head up high — it was honest work

Forty years of early mornings, forty years of aching bone

Built the roads they drive their fine cars on, laid the brick of every home

The rich man's got his money, but he never knew the worth

Of looking at a thing you made and calling it honest work

You can keep your easy dollar

You can keep your clean white shirt

I sleep good every single night

'Cause mine was honest work

A man ain't what he's given, he's the thing he leaves behind

And I left a life I'm proud of — never robbed, and never lied

You can keep your easy dollar

You can keep your clean white shirt

I sleep good every single night

'Cause mine was honest work

Oh, it was honest work

Lord, it was honest work