Working on the Georgia Line the live long day
Ninety nine degrees and only half past May
Nailing down the metal with the cross-time blues
I had creosote all over my shoes
I hated it, you know, now I find I miss it
Every time my little pension check rolls in
Course I had it bad… hey, not as bad as this is
It sure was better back then
Yeah, it sure was better back then
Working in the rain beneath surplus tarp
Foreman in the wagon twanging a sad Jews harp
Passing out at night still in my mud caked jeans
I was living off of berries and beans
I hated it, you know, now I swear I miss it
Every time I look down on my pale white skin
Course I had it bad… hey not as bad as this is
It sure was better back then
It sure was better back then
Well, the cable caught my leg, and, boy, the damn thing bled
Foreman sewed the muscle up with tarp patch thread
Sit me by the camp, gonna have the cook clean pans
And scrub them down with Georgia red sand…
I hated it, you know, now I really I miss it
Staring in my TV till the broadcast ends
Course I had it bad… hey not as bad as this is
It sure was better back then
It sure was better back then
It sure was better back then
And it sure… was better back then