Lyrics

What's the weather today
what does it matter anyway?
If you're gonna spend it indoors
in office spaces and superstores
You might be strummin' guitars
You might like drivin' old American cars
You might be singing the blues
But you ain't puttin' any miles on your shoes

We don't run no bootleg whiskey now
We don't pull the gospel plow
We don't hobo and we wouldn't know how

Monday morning commute
You're dressed in rags while they wear suits
(still) the traffic's going nowhere
guess that's the one thing that we all share
You might feel dead on your feet
You might be lost on easy street
Wish you could trade this suburban sprawl
For a cotton fields and an old dancehall

We don't run no bootleg whiskey now
We don't pull the gospel plow
We don't hobo and we wouldn't know how

Back when you were young
you used to reach for the big, starry skies
Now that you are grown,
you just reach for big compromise

We don't run no bootleg whiskey now
We don't pull the gospel plow
We don't hobo and we wouldn't know how

(repeat chorus)