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Diggin Up the Graves

from American Rhymin by Matt Monta

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lyrics

Far too many times you hold and tow the line
Even when you're caught finding out how bad it can be.
And you get brought down to your knees.

Well I heard you got a thirst for truth
My friends have got some work for you
You may be gone a day or two and awake with the rising sun.
Might even get to hold a gun.

That's the way we're paid:
Diggin up the graves.
La di da di da
La di da di da.

So it might seem like your work's cut out
And your judgement may cloud up with doubt
But when that feedback makes that moanin sound
Bet your lips will curl to a smile
And you'll feel lost for a while.

Then you'll be prayin for the seventh curse,
For the river to run in reverse
Cause everything always gets worse
Before it ends.
And the last S.O.S. gets sent.

That's the way we're paid:
Diggin up the graves.
La di da di da
La di da di da.

Now don't ask how we came up with it
Just shut your mouth and read the script
Another diplomat gets blown to bits
And then, the picture's gonna fade
Smile, babe, we're all "self made"

And there ain't nothin but fake gold and jewels
In the hearts of those that follow you
But without us, how could you, how could you...
How could you get along?
C'mon, have we ever steered you wrong?

That's the way we're paid:
Diggin up the graves.
La di da di da
La di da di da.

That's the way we're paid:
Diggin up the graves.

credits

from American Rhymin, released March 25, 2013
Andy Shaw on trumpet.

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all rights reserved

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Matt Monta Richmond, Virginia

Voice for singing. Guitar for strumming. Harmonica for wailing. Boots for stomping.

Honest songs from a hard-working heartland.

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