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LET IT WORK OUT RIGHT THIS TIME



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LET IT WORK OUT RIGHT THIS TIME

I asked the boss for a pay advance 'Til my first check, Friday next; Thirty bucks for milk and bread, It's not what she expects. A forty-watt bulb in a one room flat And an eighteen-month-old son; A brand new town and a '69 Dodge That I pray each day will run. Maybe this job and a little time Will pull us from the bind; When every need must meet a dime, Despair is fair defined. The clothes MUST last, the health MUST hold! Dear God, please let it be; Let it work out right this time For baby, wife, and me.
Wes Stephenson

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