Beat like a rug, bashed out and clubbed 

And it's all for my betterment. 

I'll give you a rib, with the marrow dried up 

When it's not much but a widow's gift. 

In the right rays of sun, 
 If you squint hard enough 

There can be only one like it. 


I'd write you a song, for all men to be one 

But I sing it from a place of pride. 

I can sing over most and I'd gladly be the host 

But most often I just hang my head and cry. 

There's a song beneath the earth, 
 There is eyes within the dirt 

Under the nails of a working man. 


Drug in by the rain, all the crooked ways I think 

A wish as in a mood to die. 

But life, it is good, no matter how far you sink 

Sometimes sitting still is better than to try. 

When you're down in a hole, 
 When your heart's weighed down like gold 

There is a hand that can reach you there

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS