Testo Widows' Wead

Waiting until my dying day That's when I pack these tired blues away That's when I go to lay down in my grav e That'll be my flying day Wondering what I'm working for Ain't gonna be your lowdown dog no more Ain't gonna bleach and scrub your kitchen floor I wonder what I'm working for Making tiny feet for shoes Didn't have the right to pick and choose Didn't know the freedom I would lose In making tiny feet for shoes Working dozen to the nine Feels like I'm just serving time Waiting in this goddamn line Hell or heaven, I'll be fine Cooking nothing in the pan That's the way life dealt my hand That'll be my living last demand To get something from this land Playing around the toes of time Waiting for the spark that'll free my mind That'll put unhappiness behind Just looking for an exit sign