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I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more |
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No, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more |
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Well, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rain |
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A head full of ideas are driving me insane |
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It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor |
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I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more |
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I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more |
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No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more |
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Well, he hands you a nickel, he hands you a dime |
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He asks you with a grin if you are having a good time |
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Then he fines you every time you slam the door |
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I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more |
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I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more |
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No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more |
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Well, he puts his cigar out in your face just for kicks |
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His bedroom window, it is made out of bricks |
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The National Guard stands around his door |
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I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more |
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I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more |
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No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more |
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Well, she talks to all the servants about man and God and law |
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Everybody says she's the brains behind pa |
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She's thirty-two, but she says she's twenty-four |
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I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more |
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I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more |
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I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more |
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Well, I try my best to be just like I am |
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But everybody wants you to be just like them |
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They say, "Sing," while you slave and I just get bored |
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I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more |
