(Travis Tritt, Gary Rossington)
I don't like hangin' out with a high dollar crowd
I ain't no socialite I'm a little too loud
I don't do garden parties sippin' hot tea
Down in some honky tonk brother
That's the place for me
A hard days livin' is all that I understand
Well I owe my soul to MasterCard
I'm a blue collar man
I bust my bottom every day eight to five
I come home draggin' feelin' barely alive
The kids are screamin', house is turned upside down
Need a bulldozer just to find my way around
Don't like caviar, we like our soup from a can
Yeah I keep my life simple
I'm a blue collar man
Don't need computers handlin' my bank account
Balance my checkbook there's a zero amount
Four-carat diamond's not on my lady's hand
We live a life rich folks could never understand
