Workingman’s Hands

by Kent Rose ©Memory Train Publishing / BMI

Yes I’ve made a wrong turn or two, everybody does
Who I am today is not what I think I thought I was
Mighta done things better but I didn’t make plans
I hope you’re not unhappy in these workingman’s hands

Mom and Dad probably had another life in mind
It’s not my pride, I tried, but I couldn’t walk the line
My nights are spent in neon, my days where the clock commands
I hope you’re not unhappy in these workingman’s hands

Working man’s hands might be calloused and rough
Lines in my face tell a story sure enough
My back may be weary at the end of a day
A heart that’s so strong this rock won’t roll away

I’m teaching to nobody, only doctorin’ in my dreams
And what you wind up doing is what you’re meant to do, it seems
Sometimes in the evening a sky full of stars appears
I count them all as lucky as I am to have you here
I hope you’re not unhappy in these workingman’s hands