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Forty Hour Week (For a Livin')

de Johnny Cash

The man who preached the funeral said it
Really was a simple way to die
He laid down to rest one afternoon
And never opened up his eyes

They hired me and Fred and Joe
To dig the grave and carry up some chairs
It took us seven hours and I guess
We've must have drunk a case of beer

Well I guess I ought to go and watch they
Put him down but I don't own a suit
And anyway when they start talkin'
About the fire 'n hell I get spooked

So let's just sit here in my truck
And act like we don't know him when they pass
Anyway, when they're all through
We've got to go to work and mow the grass

Here they come and who's that riding
In that big ol' shiny limousine
Look at all that chrome I do belive
That's the sharpest thing I've ever seen

That must belong to his rich uncle
Someone said he owned a big ol' farm
When they get parked let's mosey down
And look it over, that won't do no harm

That must be the widow in the car and
Won't you take a look at that
That sure is a pretty dress, you know
Some women do look good in black

He's not even in the ground and
They tell me his truck is up for sale
They said she took it pretty hard but
You can't tell too much behind the veil

Listen, ain't that pretty when
The bugler plays the military taps
Yeah, I think that when you's in the war
They always hide and play a song like that

Here we are and there he goes
And I guess you might call it our bad luck
I hope he rest in peace but the trouble is
The fellow owes us forty bucks

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