God Is A Working Man

verse 1 I need a whole new set of problems Said the preacher to the thief I've seen nothing here but miracles And it's shaking my belief And if everything's a miracle The saints are just a mob And the man who works the wonders is just trying to do his job Hail to the working man, my son Up there trying to get it done When every horse needs water and every weed needs sun Hail to the working man, my friend He won't clock out til the end When every saint and sinner's race is run verse 2 My grandpa was a preacher The Pentecostal kind And they take the lord so seriously you'd think they'd lost their minds They pray out loud, speak in tongues And some might take up snakes But my grandpa was a working man And he never took a break Hail to the working man like pop Never saw him drink a drop He knew what I was up to, but he didn't call the cops Hail to the working man on high Give us plenty fish to fry He might judge you but he'll never make you stop Solo (play verse chords) verse 3 Well I've stood on every corner Said the thief for his reply And I've never seen a miracle Not one I've recognized But way up in the northland Where the weather goes berserk And the sun stays up til midnight, boy There's plenty time to work Hail to the working man, my son Up there trying to get it done When every horse needs water and every weed needs sun Hail to the working man, my friend He won't clock out till the end When every saint and sinners race is run When every saint and sinners race is run