#
Subject: Dirty Work
This was requested in the newsletter, This is how it goes in an old song
book that I have. Dirty work by Sterling Whipple.
Dan Mooney - Portland Oregon
[D]Her old man hired me for[A] summer help, [Em]mowing his fields and
[G]building some shelves in the [D]basement, I was [A]young and I needed
the [D]cash, [G] [A] [D]That summer became a slave's [A]routine,
[Em]fixing his fences and [G]hoeing his beans, doing his [D]dirty work, yeah
I [A]carried out his orders and his [D]trash, [G]And [A]she'd [Bm]hang
around the house in her negligee, too [G]often I could feel her staring my
way [E]leaning in the back door sipping a cold iced [A]tea, [Asus]watching
me and my [D]dirty work, [G]yeah I'm a whiz at the [A]dirty [D]work.
Well it got where the old man was never at home and days when she mighta
thought she was alone, she'd lay in the sun and burn herself in to my
dreams, those fantasies drove me right out of my mind, if I could just touch
her, I knew I would find that money don't buy all that a young girls needs,
Then one afternoon I was taking a break, she slipped up behind, put her
hands on my waist, no words no love, no inclination to flirt,just get on
with the dirty work, I was hired for the dirty work.
A month to the day, her man called me in, for the first time I noticed how
she looked at him, A look I'd never seen, but I know it was love in her
eyes, he thanked me for all that I'd done so well, With a bottle of whiskey
and a thousand dollar bill, ashamed and confused, I walked right out of
their lives, but eight short months and a child was born, his first and his
only she gave him a son, Now I have to cry, cause I see just what money can
buy. ah dirty work, God save us from the dirty work.
0 Comments