Woke up on a bus and heard the driver say friend fill it up with No 2
Wondered where I was and wondered what today would be
Demanding me to do
It's not for me the last cause I'm just goin' where life's sendin' me I guess
The thing that keeps us goin' is the good folks in the last hard town we met.

I sat pickin' on my guitar till I saw the new sun comin' through the skies
Ain't it funny how the truth is sometimes written on an artificial high
Carry water from the well until you know that all the children are refreshed
The thing that keeps us goin' is the good folks in the last hard town we met.

We were drinking too much yesterday nobody's ever told us what's enough
The ones that we should've prayed for more than likely
Were the ones we had to cuss
They applauded as we killed ourselves but angels don't have
Bourbon on their breath
The thing that keeps us goin' is the good folks in the last hard town we met.

--- Instrumental ---

They came to see the people that they thought we were and never
Changed their minds
They explained away that difference cause the folks who love a picker
Can be blind
They misunderstood the words but understood that our intentions
Were the best
The thing that keeps us goin' is the good folks in the last hard town we met.

What a picker does for others is the thing he's mainly doing for himself
There were friends and there were neighbors
But the good homes that we came from didn't help
If there's anything you'd like to say about us after we have gone to rest
We would like someone to mention
All the good folks in the last hard town we met...