Bless the child of a working man
She knows too soon who she is
And bless the hands of a working man
He knows his soul is his
So it goes like it goes
Like the river flows
And time keeps rollin' on
And maybe what's good
Gets a little bit better
And maybe what's bad gets gone
He left a man in New York City
She left a home in New Orleans
They travelled on to California
Sweet dreams, children, sweet dreams
They met a in Greyhound station
When she kicked the cigarette machine
And woke him up hard from his nap beside it
Woke him up hard from his sweet dreams
He talked about his suggar daddies
She talked about her mean Marine
The settled down in seats adjoining
Sharing sweet dreams, children, sweet dreams
There's no man to sell your heart to
When you're dancin' across the TV screens
No husband to beat you when you're in the movies
Just sweet dreams, children, sweet dreams
Run away to another skin
A tough one, a pretty one
That won't let the badness in
Now he's keepin' house for a big producer
Who pays for the classes and the limousines
And she's passed out in a bar with whiskey
Dreaming sweet dreams, still dreaming sweet dreams
Run away to another skin
A tough one, a pretty one
That won't let the sadness in
Won't let the madness in
There is a sidewalk in California
Where they put the stars right at your feet
And people delight in stepping on them