The Lucky Ones

Work our hands all day, neath the hot copper sun
not just for what we gain,  but for what we become

We become, the lucky ones

Now my hammer has awoken, and my nails they run and hide
the need to work, to build a home, will not be denied

Still they called us, the lucky ones

And we built this house against all odds, with sweat, blood, and pluck
and found that our good fortune had little to do with luck

And we built ourselves a great ship, tied two kites to the rails
with a mast so straight and tall, the wind couldn't help but fill the sails

And we sailed out, like the lucky ones