You’ll never see me trying to raise cainYou’ll never see me wear a suit of greenThere’s a slip-road up right aheadLeading to the agragarianBut I’m city born and bredToo many car-fumes in my headJust a well-read punk peasant.But you’d think a country man would understandThe devil makes work for idle hands.M5 6-7 pmAnd the man who pretends he knows it allIs destined to a mighty fall.Gets into your house with cheer,Then proceeds to take all you’ve got to offer.This is not an autobahnIt’s an evil roundaboutThat leads to the haywainAnd you’ll never see good trains again.In late 60s, my daddy said to me,You’ll never see trams and clogs again.Now they roam the city.Can these people not understandThe devil makes work for idle handsM5 6-7 pmThe devil makes work for idle hands.M5 to the country straight aheadIt’s stuffed to the gills with crusty brown breadCan they not understandThere’s nothing worse than a bored man? M5, 6-7 pm
