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• Текст, перевод и аккорды “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 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.

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