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My older brother Tommy was a lineman rest his soul
His job was hanging hot wires on them high-line power poles
Every morning bright and early he'd climb way up in the sky
And I never understood it so one day I asked him why

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He said it pays big money and man I'm into that
It pays big money if you're willing to take a chance
Let me tell you something sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money but he sure can't spend it now

Well, my late Uncle Charlie was this demolition hound
He'd travel across the country blowing buildings to the ground
He carried a case of dynamite seemed everywhere he went
He smoked them big long cigars and he'd wink at you and grin

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Well now the moral of this story boys, is don't go getting yourself killed
Be kind to your rich relatives they just might put you in their will

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