|
This is a story about living
A tale of a long, hard road
Ain't whole lotta misgivens
Of things I that I thought I sold
My daddy was a real hard worker
He said son there will come a day
Talking always cheap
Heres what daddy had to say
(Chorus)
With these hands I've made my livin'
With these hands I've held a child
With these hands I've climbed a mountain
Sometimes we forget, we ain't much different at all
--
We like the grits, you like the apple
Ain't nothing wrong with that
We say ya'll, you say you's
It depends where your at
Well, a little bit of music is a whole lotta fun, and its always good for the soul
From New York City down to California
Ya' know it's only rock'n'roll
(Chorus)
With these hands we've come together
With these hands we can change the world
With these hands I play my music
Sometimes we forget, we ain't much different at all
Oh not at all
--
So what I'm trying to tell
Is that I'm only one son of the south
And its gonna take more than me and you
To work this whole thing out
(Chorus)
With these hands I've made my livin'
With these hands I've held a child
With these hands I've climbed a mountain
Sometimes we forget, oh
With these hands we've come together
With these hands we can change the world
With these hands I play my music
Sometimes we forget, we aint much different
We ain't much different
Ain't much different
Ain't much different
At all
|
|
