Lyrics:

There’s a woman at the checkout line,
Smilin’ though she’s runnin’ out of time.
Hands are tired but her eyes still shine,
Every day she stands and rings the sale.

There’s a taxi man with three kids to feed,
Seven hundred thousand miles on the machine.
He drives all night, though his back is sore,
Gets up again, and then he drives some more.

Do we work just to work,
To pay the bills and hide the hurt?
Trading days for a little cash,
Buying things that never last.
Feels like we’re living just to work,
But there must be more down in the dirt.

There’s a woman at the baker’s door,
With a baby at home and a man no more.
She greets the crowd with a gentle smile,
Warm bread rising makes life worthwhile.
She helps them face the break of day,
Keeps the darkness a little away.

There’s a barkeep wiping down the glass,
Pourin’ whiskey for a tired mass.
Dreams he once had, they slipped away,
But he’s still here, he smiles anyway.

Do we work just to work,
To pay the bills and hide the hurt?
Trading days for a little cash,
Buying things that never last.
Feels like we’re living just to work,
But there must be more down in the dirt.

Maybe life is more than this,
More than the money, more than the list.
Maybe we’re here to laugh, to sing,
To feel the light a new day brings.

Do we work just to work,
To pay the bills and hide the hurt?
Trading days for a little cash,
Buying things that never last.
Feels like we’re living just to work,
But there must be more down in the dirt.