Sifting Through The Sand

Verse 1

Well, the morning sun is rising, but the air is far from sweet

There's a job a-waiting for me right beside my boot-clad feet

That old grey plastic basin is a-calling out my name

And the little tiger doing it don't feel a shred of shame (no shame at all)

I pull my shirtsleeve higher and I reach down for the tool

Just a working-class provider playing by a feeline's rule

Chorus

Sifting through the sand with a plastic scoop in hand

It's the lowest-paying labor in this great American land (so hard to stand)

Scraping down the corners, shaking off the dust

Gotta keep that valley clean, it's a heavy-hearted must

Oh, the litter box blues are singing soft and deep

That's the price you pay for keeping a collector on the cheap (so doggone cheap)

Verse 2

Now he's sitting on the counter, grooming up his velvet fur

Like a high-and-mighty mister with a satisfying purr (that selfish purr)

While I'm digging out the gravel, hunting down the heavy weight

Of the midnight indiscretions from the choices that he ate

Yeah, the slots upon my shovel are a-weathered and they're worn

Sometimes I wonder why the heck a cowboy's ever born

Chorus

Sifting through the sand with a plastic scoop in hand

It's the lowest-paying labor in this great American land (so hard to stand)

Scraping down the corners, shaking off the dust

Gotta keep that valley clean, it's a heavy-hearted must

Oh, the litter box blues are singing soft and deep

That's the price you pay for keeping a collector on the cheap (so doggone cheap)

Bridge

Then I pour a brand new bag of that premium fresh clay

Smooth it out just like a desert on a hot mid-summer day (a desert day)

But before I change the garbage bag and walk on out the door

I hear them tiny claws a-scratching on the basin floor

Chorus

Sifting through the sand with a plastic scoop in hand

It's the lowest-paying labor in this great American land (so hard to stand)

Scraping down the corners, shaking off the dust

Gotta keep that valley clean, it's a heavy-hearted must

Oh, the litter box blues are singing soft and deep

That's the price you pay for keeping a collector on the cheap (so doggone cheap)

Outro

Put the lid back on

Throw the bag in the bin

Lord, he's already kicking that gravel back in (he's back again)

Just a-scratching away

Mmm, the cowboy's work is never done

Never done