Lyrics:

Stick Our Fruit Mason Jars Snapping Peas In The Backyard Been A Year Now With My Hands In The Dirt Blood On My Fingers Can't Show It Hurts We Gonna See If Next Sunday Comes I Ain't Gonna Make It If The Working Ain't Done Working Ain't Done 'til The Setting Sun I Got An Old Dreadnaught Through A Bell And Howell It Ain't The Best Of Ways But It'll Work Somehow I Don't Need Me A Little Band Because Mr. Davis Says I Got A Sporting Right Hand We Gonna See If Next Sunday Comes I Ain't Gonna Make It If The Working Ain't Done Working Ain't Done 'til The Setting Sun

chorus Look Out Boys You're About To Learn There Comes A Time When The Cactus Burns Life Ain't Never Gonna Spare The Rod I Can't Keep Living, Living This Hard My Kin Folks Say Don't Forget Who You Are Them's Words That's Got Me Living This Far There Comes Sometimes When I Get Real Low I Wish My Memory Didn't Serve Me So We Gonna See If Next Sunday Comes I Ain't Gonna Make It If The Working Ain't Done Working Ain't Done 'til The Setting Sun
chorus Repeat