Workin' Man's Dollar

Well, I'm just a workin' man's dollar
 In the pocket of his old blue jeans
 I ain't like my wall street brother
 He's in a bank so shiny and clean
 Well, I'm faded and I'm wrinkled
 Tattered and stained with sweat
 But I'm the first one called
 When uncle Sam needs a hand with the national debt
 ♪
 I've been wages for the farm hand
 For drivin' an old John Deere
 I've been laid on a bar in a tavern
 To buy a workin' man an ice-cold beer
 I've been tipped to a truck-stop waitress
 Taped where I was torn
 And in the hand of a child I was laid on a plate
 In a church on Sunday morn'
 Well, they say I'm the root of all evil
 I bring lust, power, and greed
 But this workin' man's dollar only buys the things
 A workin' man really needs
 ♪
 Well, they say I'm worth about 50 cents
 In this modern inflated age
 But don't tell that to the young man slavin'
 To make it on a minimum wage
 Or that single workin' mother
 She's been scapin' to make ends meet
 To make a house a home, keep food on the table
 And shoes on her baby's feet
 ♪
 Well, I know my days are numbered
 I'm gettin' threadbare and wearin' thin
 And they'll replace me with another
 But I'd do it all again
 'Cause I've seen this great big country
 Passed from hand to callused hand
 And I've got to say that I'm mighty proud
 That I belong to the workin' man
 Well, they say I'm the root of all evil
 I bring lust, power, and greed
 But this workin' man's dollar only buys the things
 A workin' man really needs