or
Paul Simon

Lord I am a working man
And music is my trade
I'm traveling with this 5 piece band
I play the ace of spades
I have a wife and family, 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
From 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 present's in the past
The highways are in litigation
The airports disagree
God bless the absentee

Written by SIMON, PAUL
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.