Our Father's Sons

Help me sing
All you weary strangers raise your voice
In this chain gang chorus in our younger days
My brothers, we were naive sailors
Storms we all endured
Oh the road
All you who sing the praises of dust and bones
Places that she takes us, the choice was ours
We wanted much more than our fathers
While our mothers said their prayers
And we’re moving on up
To the east side
We finally got a piece of the pie
Of the pie
Baby doll
All you women of the travelers, your empty arms
Your patient hearts and waiting, bless your hearts
And your never ending patience
I could not go on without you
We’re all the same
All the blue and bright white collars, we’re all the same
Our troubles and our sorrows, but underneath
There’s the blood and bone and mixture
Though we dance to different songs
And your momma’s alright
Your daddy’s alright
They just seem a little bit weird, yeah
Oh, surrender
Every man
Every woman with a burden raise your hands
Raise 'em up to the firmament, let’s see those hands
Meet your brothers and your sisters using hands
We are our fathers' sons