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Arthur Prysock – A Working Man's Prayer lyrics
Lord, put your hand to
The handle of my hoe
Let me make another step
Let me grow another row
Even though I'm tired
Got to try to make a dollar
For my wife and kids
Living over in the holler
The frost came early last year
And, well, Lord, there just
Wasn't anything to be harvested
Well, with no money
And Christmas a-coming
A man's mind takes funny turns
And for a minute
I thought to blame you, Lord
But I know better than that
I know that for every row planted
It takes a heap of praying
And I reckon I been forgetting mine
When the crops died
But you didn't forget me, Lord
And by the time Christmas came
I'd found enough to put
A chicken on the table
It wasn't that big turkey I wanted
But it was mighty good eatings
And the kids all had new shoes
It wasn't those fancy toys they wanted
But their feet was nice and warm
And then I guess I cried a little
And I got down on my knees
And I thanked you, Lord, remember
Lord, put your hand to
The handle of my hoe
Let me make another step
Help me grow another row
Even though I'm tired
Got to try to make a dollar
For my wife and kids
Living over in the holler
And then there was a time my wife said
You just got to slow down, man
I said, honey
I got make it while I can
So I worked three days, Lord
Without stopping for
Miss Simmons down the road
Had wood needed chopping
Sam Fallow over east
Had hay needed bailing
Old man Taylor wanted his
Holler fixed beforee spring planting
The fourth day
I was down on my back, Lord
But I got it all done
Before the sky turned black
Now, I ain't complaining, Lord
But sometimes when you see me stumble
Reach down and lend
A helping hand to my back
Make my days a little shorter
And my nights a little longer
Lord, make my hammer a little lighter
And my dollar a little stronger
And if there's anything
I can do for you, Lord
Let me know what's to be done
It shall be done
Well, goodnight, Lord
The handle of my hoe
Let me make another step
Let me grow another row
Even though I'm tired
Got to try to make a dollar
For my wife and kids
Living over in the holler
The frost came early last year
And, well, Lord, there just
Wasn't anything to be harvested
Well, with no money
And Christmas a-coming
A man's mind takes funny turns
And for a minute
I thought to blame you, Lord
But I know better than that
I know that for every row planted
It takes a heap of praying
And I reckon I been forgetting mine
When the crops died
But you didn't forget me, Lord
And by the time Christmas came
I'd found enough to put
A chicken on the table
It wasn't that big turkey I wanted
But it was mighty good eatings
And the kids all had new shoes
It wasn't those fancy toys they wanted
But their feet was nice and warm
And then I guess I cried a little
And I got down on my knees
And I thanked you, Lord, remember
Lord, put your hand to
The handle of my hoe
Let me make another step
Help me grow another row
Even though I'm tired
Got to try to make a dollar
For my wife and kids
Living over in the holler
And then there was a time my wife said
You just got to slow down, man
I said, honey
I got make it while I can
So I worked three days, Lord
Without stopping for
Miss Simmons down the road
Had wood needed chopping
Sam Fallow over east
Had hay needed bailing
Old man Taylor wanted his
Holler fixed beforee spring planting
The fourth day
I was down on my back, Lord
But I got it all done
Before the sky turned black
Now, I ain't complaining, Lord
But sometimes when you see me stumble
Reach down and lend
A helping hand to my back
Make my days a little shorter
And my nights a little longer
Lord, make my hammer a little lighter
And my dollar a little stronger
And if there's anything
I can do for you, Lord
Let me know what's to be done
It shall be done
Well, goodnight, Lord
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