The ole man stand by the lone chute, he sold his calves t'day
He spits in the dust between his boots, as the semi pulls away
The slick blue check in his grimy hands, shoves down in his coat
It won't make the payment on the land, or pay the interst on the note
Ohit's hard, hard times
He's a young man with a loving wife, 2 children and a home
Plans to build a better life, and put a mortagage on his own
He lost his job when the boom went bust, still got bills to pay
Now he's pickin' up cans in the roadside dust, she's at the Feed-Rack
cafe
Ohit's hard, hard times
Now the ole grey banker sits behind his desk, beneath a worried frown
Of the tangled mess of some good folks goin' down
He's known some of 'em for 30 years, and some point the finger of blame
An' no one sees his tears, except the one who shares his name
Ohit's hard, hard times
Ohit's hard, hard times