Lyrics: The Working Man

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 ain’t 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

I ain’t never been in trouble
I ain’t got the time
I don’t mess around with magic, child
What I got is mine

Whatever you say, lord
Well, that’s what I’m gonna do
Whatever you say
Well, that’s what I’m gonna do
’Cause I’m the working man, lord
And I do the job for you

I ain’t never been in trouble
I ain’t got the time
I don’t mess around with magic, child
What I got is mine

Every Friday
Well, that’s when I'll get paid
Don’t take me on Friday, lord
’Cause that’s when I get paid
Let me die on Saturday night
Ooh, before Sunday gets my head