The two men work hard, with sweat on their brow, Toiling through the day, it's the only way they know how, Their hands are calloused, their muscles worn, But they press on, from dusk until dawn. They may not be clever, or have much to say, But they work hard, to provide for their family each day, They push through the pain, with each swing of the tool, Their labor may be tough, but their love is the fuel.