Children born with a silver spoon
Come into this world
Through a private room
All the others take a breath
And then they cry
'Cause they know they'll be working
'Til the day they die

It didn't take me long
To see the plan
I was born with my hammer
In my hand
Working the line
In the Southern sun
'Better not stop
'Til the work is done

But I can stand straight
I can stand tall
I might bend
But I won't fall
Washing down my whiskey
With Tylenol
Washing down my whiskey
With Tylenol

Some are born with gold
Some get the call
They go through life
They never work at all
Politicians and preachers
I say 'damn 'em all'
Still washing down my whiskey
With Tylenol

But I will stand straight
I will stand tall
I might bend
But I will never fall
Washing down my whiskey
With Tylenol
Washing down my whiskey
With Tylenol