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(Aaron Tippin Philip Douglas Kim Williams) Each time the good Lord makes a man He always breaks the mold So it sure does raise a flag for that Rebel in my soul When some phony carbon copy says I'm the black sheep of the fold Well, this is what I tell' em When I tell 'em where to go If you trim yourself to fit the world There won't be nothin' left Just a little here and a little there Till you won't know yourself You'll be a pile of shavings When they put you in your grave If you trim yourself to fit the world You'll whittle yourself away I could change to fit his world But I just ain't that kind Some sell their soul for the easy road The devil's always buying I can't count the ones I've known Who fell right into line Now they walk around with their heads hung down They've got no piece of mind If you trim yourself to fit the world There won't be nothin' left Just a little here and a little there Till you won't know yourself You'll be a pile of shavings When they put you in your grave If you trim yourself to fit the world You'll whittle yourself away So before you sign that dotted line Or do something that you'd rather not Before you compromise your stand Friend, let me tell you what Don't let the crowd get so loud You can't hear your conscience speak 'Cause I'm willing to bet that you'll soon regret That you sold yourself so cheap If you trim yourself to fit the world There won't be nothin' left Just a little here and a little there Till you won't know yourself You'll be a pile of shavings When they put you in your grave If you trim yourself to fit the world You'll whittle yourself away If you trim yourself to fit the world You'll whittle yourself away |
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