Roofer's Blues

I'd drive ten thousand nails a day

Won't you give or take a few

I clinch the tips between my lips

And hammer as I move

I'm rawhide wound round iron bones and wired tights and youth

I might only stop to roll a smoke

And sing the roofer's blues

Oh, lord, would you let it rain

A whole bunch of money

I wouldn't mind retiring in my youth

But, oh lord, if it kills me

And I rise up to your skies

Please don't put me on your golden roof

I been to Austin and New Orleans boy

Both them suns is hot

Old Austins full of hippies, pretty girls, and old big shots

I keep me a 38 Special

Tucked between my seats

Cause you never know what's to be got

When you're down in New Orleans

Oh lord would you let it rain

A whole bunch of money

I wouldn't mind retiring in my youth

But oh lord if it kills me

And I rise up to your skies

Please don't put me on your golden roof

I been out on the shingle

Since I could barely walk

And walk I do, right up the eves

Lord, I don't stop to talk

You can see my shoulders shadow

Against the sun and moon

I might only stop to roll a smoke

And sing the roofer's blues

Oh lord would you let it rain

A whole bunch of money

I wouldn't mind retiring in my youth

But oh lord if it kills me

And I rise up to your skies

Please don't put me on your golden roof

I said please don't put me on your golden roof