(Paul Simon)
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Lord, I'm a working man
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And music is my trade
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I'm travelin' with this five-piece band
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And I play the ace of spades
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I have a wife and family
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Who don't see much of me
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God bless the absentee
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Lord, I am a sugeon
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And music is my knife
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It cuts away my sorrow
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And purifies my life
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But if I could release my heart
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And veins and arteries
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I'd say God bless the absentee
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I miss my woman so
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I miss my bed
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I miss those soft places
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I used to lay my head
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My son don't need me yet
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His bones are soft
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He flies a silver airplane
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He wears a golden cross
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God bless the absentee
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Lord, this country's changed so fast
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The future is the present
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The present's in the past
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Highways are in litigation
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The airports disagree
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God bless the absentee
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God bless the absentee
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God Bless The Absentee
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Paul Simon |