Half Way To Hell

I was a farmer till the top soil blew away

From Texas all the way to L.A.

But when the land gives up and there's no more pay

The big city is your last stop

I take my orders from the union hall

I work on wet iron seven fifty feet tall

And if I may slip its the coroner you'll call

I'll be half way to hell if I fall

Through all my years of desperate wandering

It's hard to imagine I'd amount to anything

But now my ship has finally come in

And I'm part of this brotherhood now

This is the start of what could be the end

This great depression the country's on the mend

A fair days wage for a fair days work

That's all I got coming to me