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(C) W.A. Kostelec
Working Man 2004
Sometimes I live in the country
Sometimes I live in town
Sometimes I take a great notion to jump in the sewer and drown
People they act like I’m crazy
People act like I’m insane
People act like they don’t know me
Can’t even remember my name
I remember the color of sunrise
I remember the smell of the rain
I remember the touch of another
In the passage from pleasure to pain
Nobody wants to reveal me
Nobody tries to explain
Nobody’s trying to heal me
Everybody’s playing the game
The Inspector is up on the scaffold
The Inspector he peers through the glass
The Inspector makes notes on his clipboard
As the sky turns the color of brass
Sometimes I sleep on the ocean
Sometimes I dream on the Sea
Sometimes I get sick from the motion
When the waves come and roll over me
There’s an Indian on an old nickel
There’s an Indian out in left field
There’s an Indian in a museum
At the center of a Medicine wheel
