American Prole(tariat)

 

Work boy

Work a day

Toil your little life away

Nine to five’s the only way

to keep your self respect

 

Highway tramp in broken shoes

Empty stomach growls the blues

If you don’t work

Ya got ta lose

No friends no home no name

 

Old man

Hands like rock

Heart beats like a tickin’ clock

Work until the tickin’ stops

rest only in your grave

 

Yes work boy

That’s the way it’s done

The way the bread and butter’s won

Retire in the Florida sun

And die with dignity

Die with dignity

Die with dignity….