The Best-Laid Plans
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Drifts here together with his buddy
they pitch up with prayers and plans
A stake for a patch where they can scratch out
a living with their own hands
The preacher says labour makes you holy
your gold must be earned not panned
But nobody never gets to heaven and nobody gets no land

Boss at the ranch house has his treasures
his lady and livestock grand
Bindlestiffs come to find salvation
to save and to turn their hand
But the stairway gives out before the landing
that's seared with the owner's brand
But nobody never gets to heaven and nobody gets no land

I know that our toil earns just for owners
my fancies have long been canned
Shot with your dog when he got useless
and crushed with your dead right hand
Why don't these dreamers ever wake up?
and why don't they understand
That nobody never gets to heaven
and nobody gets no land