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In clothing sewn in crowded rooms Eating food picked by weary bones At table cleaned by tired feet A meal served from fatigue I act like it’s my birth right To stumble round like a drunken fool But some know this is hallowed ground Don’t deserve our dirty boots Well I wonder where those feet would go Wonder what those hands would do If they ever had a row to hoe and a moment to choose Well move along, don’t care where you go But we need this sidewalk clear Loose parts in the back of some forgotten drawer Is there anywhere on God’s green earth that I can pull my weight A place for everyone and everyone in his place I buit a house of mud and straw It cracked in the freeze and thaw So I retreat on my knees To the city I withdraw Someday the Lord will open all the doors All the bells a-ringing true A place at every table waiting there just for you Well all we are is parts and labor To this engine’s indifferent hum Scrape the bottom of the barrell