There's a silhouette of an old bent man
with gnarled and twisted blood stained hands
and the years have torn into his flesh
with lies and betrayal from all the rest
and the marks of steel can still be seen
on his callous hardened toadback skin
the grooves contain the sweat the dirt
but the scars that weep are the ones that hurt
Hard workin' man, with a well worn face
with a choice to make...
Its rock or a hard place
wakes up at 6 when the town clock rings
its a hollow sound for what it brings
the glint of steel is in his hands
leaves a mark..like lightning..in the sand
there's a hawk that sits on a splintered post
and he watches through the acrid smoke
the howlin' dogs and the bitter cries
are what he sees when he leaves the skies
Hard workin' man,with a well worn face
with a choice to make...
Its rock or a hard place
http://www.jasonmarkyates.com
