Matthew

Works the nightshift at the depot
 With a pistol and a light
 And he guards them rustin' missiles
 Countin' whitetail to pass the time
 And he's worked there for a long while
 Since he came home from overseas
 Helping Kilcorn, fight the good fight
 And bring Baghdad to it's knees
 And it was hotter than the mountain
 But it weren't so ya couldn't stand
 And it weren't so much the heatwave
 Nearly as much as all the sand
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 Now his daddy he's a log man
 With a good leg and fake
 That he got off of a buddy
 And a shit shot that he made
 And he worked them hands to splinters
 And he raised them youngins right
 On a little bit of scripture
 And an acreage of paradise
 And he'd go out on a weekend
 And he'd play like Clarence White
 If Clarence had a real job
 And picked the guitar when there was time
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 Keeps a trap line in the winter
 Keeps a line wet in the spring
 On a lock wall fishin' muskie
 With his eldest and Steve
 And they swapped tales about their raisin'
 And they tell the awfullest lies
 And they go home when they've a notion
 And the muskie quit to bitin'