He walks through the door, at the end of the day
Just kisses his wife, and not much to say.
His brain is still tired, from working lines hot
It's a lineman thing, this tired brain he's got
From watching each move, he's made all day long
To watching his buddy, so nothing goes wrong
High in the air, they work hot primary
I've heard people say, that job's just too scary
With his hands still winkled, from wearing his gloves
He touches the face, of the woman he loves
His boots feel so heavy, as he unties the laces
They're old, worn and dirty, they've been many places
With his head in his hands, he takes in a sigh
And thanks the good lord, that today he didn't die
With a thin rubber glove, protecting his life
The lord brought him home, to be with his wife
Some say he is crazy, to work like he does
He can't see the juice, he can just hear it buzz
But he made it home safely and tonight he will pray
That tomorrow God walks with him, through one more day
Written by: Stephen Crawford, Leadlineman, Mississippi Power Company.
The Lineman
Member #: 63152
Registered: 11/5/2008
Posted:
1940
Name:
Bob
Company:
None
Occupation:
Considering one
Location:
Rapid City SD
Personal:
early 20s
Experience:
~54 years
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