Down to the Well - Hard Working Americans

Some mud covered dogs guarding shotgun shacks

A red door on a green Cadillac

Hot wind blowing smoke through graveyard streets

A face I recognize staring right through me

Ain’t going down to the well no more

Believe I’ve had my fill

I worked that ground 'til I done got sore

Ain’t going back down to the well

I played that dive twenty-some-odd years

Through the faith and whiskey, you face your fears

I remember the night you broke down to the core

You threw a black Stratocaster through a plate glass door

Ain’t going down to the well no more

Believe I’ve had my fill

I worked that ground 'til I done got sore

Ain’t going back down to the well

Ain’t going down to the well no more

Believe I’ve had my fill

I worked that ground 'til I done got sore

Ain’t going back down to the well

See that woman in the corner, brother, she knows

Every inch of my body, every mile of my soul

We used to shake them on down to the blazing day

What’s she doing here tonight watching me that way?

Ain’t going down to the well no more

Believe I’ve had my fill

I worked that ground 'til I done got sore

Ain’t going back down to the well

Ain’t going down to the well no more

Believe I’ve had my fill

I worked that ground 'til I done got sore

Ain’t going back down to the well