Dragline

Big man, big hands

Strong back, strong mind

Golden glove, at 16

Good looking like Steve McQueen

I'm dumb, He's mad

I push to fight

He says, "Let's go"

I said, "All right"

Hey, I said, "Okay"



Yeah, Poppa bought a pick-up truck

With bottle tops and that's enough

A beat up piece of Chevrolet

Blue and white rustin' away

Aww, still we ride

Yeah, just father and son



Small child, front seat

Mouth in dad's ear

As they drive that truck

In the night, in the night

Looking up at the night

Through dark windshields

Buster Browns won't reach

I ask to drive

And he says, "Okay"



Well, Papa bought a pick up truck

With bottle tops and that's enough

A beat up piece of Chevrolet

Blue and white rustin' away

Aw, still we ride

Yeah, just father and son



Cool Hand says, "I'm a man who can eat fifty eggs"

And, "Sayin' it's your job, don't make it, make it right"

We laugh, we cry

We say, "That's right"

He says, "Let's drive"

We say, "All right"

Yeah, we said, "Okay"



Papa says, "Let's go for a ride"

"Oh, We'll grab a bite to eat"

"Hell boy, might even let you drive"

I said, "Hey pop, oh, turn up the radio"

"Aw, 'cause that's my favorite song"

"Hey, that's my favorite song"

As we went along

Oh, roll down your window

As we went along

Yeah, just father and son

Hey, just like we were

Yeah, a father and son

Hey Papa, "Dairy Queen sounds good to me"

And Papa, "Pull off here, I've got to take a leak"

And Papa, "You're gonna have to kill me, to keep me down"

And Papa, you laugh when I say,

"Move it up here, Dragline"

Oh, Dragline