New paint on my shovel

Songtext

[Intro – Slow, dirty banjo picking. Low bass drum heartbeat. A lonely harmonica answers.] [Spoken – Deep gravelly bass] Ten long years I've dug these holes. Don't know where the time has gone... [Verse 1] I bought a shovel when I was young, With a wooden handle, and blade so strong, Its shiny face was sharp and bright, As I dug my first grave in the morning light. I laid an old man in his final resting place, And wiped the sweat from my weary face, But as the years went on, the paint chipped and tore, Now it don't look shiny, any more . [Chorus – Heavy stomping rhythm] There's new paint on my shovel, Ten years worth of trouble, I've buried saints and sinners, The losers and the winners. I've dug through frost and I've worked in rain, Through sorrow, grief and pain, Now there's new paint on my shovel, And more graves to fill again. [Verse 2] I've buried mothers, I've buried sons, I've laid to rest the old and young, I've heard the widows weep and cry, And watched their tears as they said goodbye. I've filled the graves of rich and poor, And left their footprints at death's door, The dead don't mind what clothes they wear, But I take pride in burying em' there. [Chorus – Banjo and harmonica driving harder] There's new paint on my shovel, Ten years worth of trouble, I've buried saints and sinners, The losers and the winners. I've dug through frost and I've worked in rain, Through sorrow, grief and pain, Now there's new paint on my shovel, And more graves to fill again. [Verse 3 – Slower, darker] My hands are cracked, my back is bent, And I wonder where the ten years went, My hairs gone thin, my beard turned grey, And another year has slipped away. That battered shovel hangs in the shed, it's lost its shine, it must be said, But its still as strong, and done it ain't, it just needs another lick of paint. [Instrumental Break – Deep walking bass, gritty banjo solo, mournful blues harmonica. Heavy kick drum enters.] [Bridge – Spoken/sung, very deep subharmonic voice] Well, the new guy got himself a spade, The finest one that money made. But there's one thing that I know for sure... My painted shovel will work some more. [Final Chorus – Powerful, deep and haunting] There's new paint on my shovel, And ten years worth of trouble, I've buried saints and sinners, The losers and the winners. When my final day is done, And I've seen my last setting sun, There'll be new paint on my shovel... But not from me, Cos i'll be gone. [Outro – Music slows. Solo harmonica. A shovel scrapes against stone.] [Spoken – Almost a whisper, deep gravelly bass] Funny thing about this business... There's always one more hole to dig. [Final shovel strike. Silence.]