Everyone Choose Sides-The Wrens

Thirteen grand A year in the Meadowlands Bored and rural-poor, Lord, at 35, right? I'm the best seventeen-year-old ever Worked these sands I won't go back again Quitter, quitter, one boy bitter - rough luck Man to man, hand to hand, fight forty We're losing sand! A Wrens' ditch battle plan Record after record, black and deckered, tack, tack! Definition: hell and high water Fatty come a courting, Lord, the money! Everyone choose sides The whole to-do of what to do for money Poorer or not this year and hell's the difference ... Let's talk plans And luck said, "Double damned Were you give women worth winning or what? A wasted share of shots at high-tide heaven" Greener grasses fade from where you wind up Everyone choose sides I'm back! I'm back! So sing to raise the blind up I've walked away from more than you imagine, and I sleep just fine ... We fought and brought up more The shovel's high up on the ten-ton line