To bed I go, To rest my head
The day is done, The sun is dead
The moon has risen, I must sleep
A hard days work, I will repeat
Calloused hands, and iron bones
Work away, to crumble stone
Oh dark disease, tear it down!
A hard days work, will be my crown
For healing ills, and curing ails
And treating many torments
Is my reward, from the Lord
A hard days work is glorious.
I rise up now, from humble bed
As hard days work fills up my head
But I thank God, before I start
And pray for joy to fill my heart.
Modern Survival Arkansas 