I was sittin’ down to supper after workin’ hard all day
Earning just about enough to keep the wolf away
Makin’ more in taxes than I was in take home pay
That’s the patriotic thing to do
This hard luck lookin’ fella came a knockin’ at my door
And I offered him a bite to eat ‘cause he looked so poor
Ha ate all that I gave him and asked if there was more
I said there was and he ate that up too
Bashful type
Well. He ate my watermelon when he polished off my grits
Then he washed it down with whiskey, spittin’ seeds between the sips
Smoked up all my cigarettes and ate the filter tips
I could tell he hadn’t had no fetchin’ up
He ate like he was trying hard to give his self a cramp
And the little soup he left me wouldn’t lick a postage stamp
Then he said, I’ve eaten better in a concentration camp
Drank my coffee from my coffee cup
Like he had it comin’ to him
Well, I’m as quick as anyone to give a man a hand
But I’d enjoyed about as much of this as I could stand
So I picked him up to throw him out and he said, cool it man
I’m part of this great society
He says, the way I figure it I work for Uncle Sam
I done perfected my own anti-poverty program
I merely done eliminated that old middle man
And all you got goes straight from you to me
The spirit that built the West
Had to admit though, he had a point or two
I ain’t worked a lick myself, I mean I may be slow, but I ain’t stupid
Words & Music by Kris Kristofferson c. Jody Ray Publishing, Inc. (BMI) All Rights Reserved