Bobby Bland - Poverty lyrics

rate me

Up every morning with the sun,

I work all day 'til the evening comes

Busters and corns all in my hands

Lord, have mercy on a working man

I guess I'm gonna die, just like I live, in poverty

My pay goes down and my tax goes up

I drink my tea from a broken cup

Between my woman and uncle Sam,

I can't figure out just what I am

I guess I', gonna die, just like I live, in poverty

Oh Lord, it's so hard