Maggie’s Farm

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
No, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
But I wake up in the morning, hold my hands and pary for rain
I got a head full of ideas that are driving me insane
It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
Oh, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Oh, 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
Oh, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more

Oh, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Pa no more
No, I ain't gonna work for Magge'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
Oh, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Pa no more

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Ma no more
No, 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
Oh, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Ma no more

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
No, 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
And I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more