Paroles: Paul Simon. God Bless The Absentee.

Lord, I'm a working man
And music is my trade
I'm travelin' with this five-piece band
I play the ace of spades

I have a wife and family
Who don't see much of me
God bless the absentee

Lord, I am a surgeon
And music is my knife
It cuts away my sorrow
And purifies my life

But if I could release my heart
And veins and arteries
I'd say, "God bless the absentee"

I miss my woman so
I miss my bed
I miss those soft places
I used to lay my head

My son don't need me yet
His bones are soft
He flies a silver airplane
He wears a golden cross

God bless the absentee

Lord, this country's changed so fast
The future is the present
The presents in the past
The highways are in litigation
The airports disagree

God bless the absentee
God bless the absentee

God bless the absentee
God bless the absentee