Some days it's like I was born with a shovel in my hand
Who would've thought hard labor would be in such high demand
Ah, but it's best if I just get it over with
Come this time tomorrow it won't matter a lick
I wish I may, I might shrink away from the task at hand
The sweat of my brow could start a river that'd flood this land
Dayside dreaming of a reason for my time
Nightside grieving the dreams I've left behind
Some days
Some days
That mean old sun would like to burn me up right where I stand
That I should work so damn hard must be a reprimand
Am I paying toll on the original sin highway?
Waiting & hoping & praying for a better day
Some days
Some days
Some days