Chris Ledoux

Workin Mans Dollar

Chris Ledoux

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Verse 1: 
 A                               G                   D                G     A 
Well, I'm just a Workin' Man's Dollar      In the pocket of his old blue jeans 
    A                          G                         D            G     A 
I ain't like my Wall Street brother          He's in a bank so shiny and clean 
            A              G                       D                  G     A 
Well, I'm faded and I'm wrinkled               Tattered and stained with sweat 
             A                     G                 D                      A 
But I'm the 1st one called when Uncle Sam  Needs a hand with the National Debt 
   A                      G                             D             G     A 
I've been wages for the farm hand                For drivin' an old John Deere 
                             G                          D             G     A 
I've been laid on a bar in a tavern      To buy a workin' man an ice-cold beer 
                                     G                    D                  A 
I've been tipped to a truck-stop waitress               Taped where I was torn 
                                    G                      D               A 
And in the hand of a child  I was laid on a plate  In a church on Sunday morn 
 
Refrão: 
      D                                                    A 
They say I'm the root of all evil                I bring lust, power and greed 
                                     G                  D                  A 
But this Workin' Man's Dollar only buys the things  A workin' man really needs 
 
Verso 2: 
A                               G                   D                G     A 
Well, they say I'm worth about fifty-cents         In this modern inflated age 
A                          G                        D                G     A 
But don't tell that to the young man slavin'      To make it on a minimum wage 
A                         G                            D             G     A 
Or that single workin' mother             She's been scapin' to make ends meet 
                                G                      D                   A 
To make a house a home   Keep food on the table   And shoes on her baby's feet 
A                           G                          D             G     A 
Well, I know my days are numbered      I'm gettin' threadbare and wearin' thin 
A                              G                                D          A 
And they'll replace me with another                    But I'd do it all again 
A                               G   
Cuz I've seen this great big country 
              D                A 
Passed from hand to callused hand 
A                               G 
And I've got to say that I'm mighty proud  
          D           G      A 
That I belong to a workin' man 
 
(Refrão)
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