Tired Toes from Blue Collars by Ruff Pups

Father was a sand farmer, cut on a blue collar
So his kids could have fun longer
Farmer, he got bitter quicker yeah
30 Beers a night only makes ya older

Half an acre that’s half a mile
From the city limit of a drive-by town
That ole livin room has got a body on the ground
Had of ya wishin what ya seen ain’t true
He’s only passed out

Hey sheriff better mind your manners
There ain’t no plannin for a dead man’s family cryin
Neighbors said it never woulda happened
If he hadn’t busted his back
Workin dirt for comfort

Tired toes, dirt’s your cologne
Tobacco glows, beneath your nose
And a churnin rose in your head
Says it’s time to go

And I know that’s all it takes to get ya
And I know I don’t know what it takes
To make a livin

I know it only takes a bullet
To leave the planet
Oh please, we never planned it

Father was a sand farmer

• Rock
• desert punk
• desertpunk rock
• Boise