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Worker Bee

from Helping Hand by A.S. Coomer

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Written, Recorded, & Performed by A.S. Coomer ©2020

lyrics

I watch the crack in the pane of the window fill with snow
I tape some plastic on it but I don't think it'll hold
I hear a mournful whistle on that wicked winter wind that blows

Spit on the shit, man, shine the bricks
I'm working and working just to make another man rich
I'm a drone, baby, a worker bee
Well that's just the kind of life for the likes of you & me

I pick my check on Friday then that weekend comes
Cindy's got the kids, Lord knows, man, I got that rum
I'll be a-screaming and a-singing like I did when I's young
Won't have a dime for the time I wasted 'fore Monday comes

The socks on my feet are made of mostly holes
I feel every rock in the street & that winter's cold
Ain't got no money to spend, no needle of my own to hold
I hope that weather warms up before my shoes decide to go

credits

from Helping Hand, released March 19, 2020
Guitar, Vocals, & Keys: A.S. Coomer

license

all rights reserved

tags

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A.S. Coomer Elizabethtown, Kentucky

Folk. Americana. Narratives. Ambient Instrumentals. Aubades. Nocturnes. Poetry. Rock & roll. Psychedelia. Alt- Country.

Five of my tunes were published by The Museum of Americana.

Rural Eminence Volumes One, Two, & Three are instrumental reflections of the rural life.

Songs for Leaving is a poetry/music fusion.

I've got tons of projects cooking.

Follow along for more tasty sounds.
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