Honey Wagon Driver
My job is worse than yours and it isn’t even close.
If that ever seems in question, please follow your nose.
Always been a quiet, watchful dude, never been verbose.
But now, everyone avoids me, because my job is so gross.
My job is worse than yours, even though you could never hang.
The sweet stench permeates my air with a sour, sickening tang.
Like a wet fog, the smell clings to my skin and hair and everything.
I dare not open my mouth to laugh, to eat, to smile, or even to sing.
My job is worse than yours but I'm the unsung hero of this place,
Unless I don’t show up, I’m unappreciated, forgotten without a trace.
Until it gets ankle deep, I’m invisible, like a ghost of the daily rat race.
But even as you scream and spittle, you won’t look me square in my face.
My job is worse than yours and you won’t listen to anything I say,
Because my job sucks, you dismiss me and that isn’t even a little okay.
My goal like yours is to work hard and go home safely each single day.
It seems the only avenue open to me is to fall to my knees and pray.
My job is worse than yours and I’m pretty sure that won’t ever change.
In the Construction industry we take the normal and we break it strange.
In fact, my mental psyche would be better off on a two-way rifle range.
Just between us, turns out that it isn’t just you, who is unable to hang.