I ain't gonna work for Maggie's
brother no more
No I ain't gonna work for
Maggie's brother no more
Well he hands you a nickel,
he hands you a dime
He asks you with a grin if
you're having a good time
Then he fines you every time
you slam the door
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's
brother no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's
pa no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's
pa no more
Well he puts his cigar out
in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window, it is
made out of bricks
The National Guard stands
around his door
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's
pa no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's
ma no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's
ma no more
Well she talks to all the
servants about Man and God and Law
Everybody says she's the brains
behind Pa
She's sixty-eight, but she
says she's fifty-four
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's
ma no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's
farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's
farm no more
Well I try my best to be just
like I am
But everybody wants you to
be just like them
They say sing while you slave,
but I just get bored
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's
farm no more
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |