The Working Man — текст песни (creedence clearwater revival)

Well, I was born on a sunday; on thursday I had me a job.

I was born on a sunday; by thursday I was workin out on the job.

I aint never had no day off since I learned right from wrong.



Mama said I was bad, I did something to her head.

Mama said I was bad, I did something to her head.

And poppa threw me out, ooh, said, "i gotta earn my own way."



Chorus:

I aint never been in trouble;

I aint got the time.

I dont mess around with magic, child.

What I got is mine.



Whatever you say, lord, well, thats what Im gonna do.

Whatever you say, well, thats what Im gonna do.

cause Im the working man, lord, and I do the job for you.



Chorus



Every friday, well, thats when I get paid.

Dont take me on friday, lord, cause thats when I get paid.

Let me die on saturday night, ooh, before sunday gets my head.