What I must

In my old life I survived

Fed the kids, and stayed alive

Stayed above the rising tide

Never strayed far from that line

But I have been born anew

I do what I have to do

I don't sell anything I wouldn't use

I tell myself that I've been true

And I might get hauled off someday

Someday my kids might see my face

Through a bulletproof window pane

My wife might feel a widow's pain

But even she can understand

Why I sell this, with gun in hand

I make my living from the land

We, all of us, do what we can

If all should fall apart then trust

My little girls will have enough

The responsibilities don't vary much

We, all of us, do what we must