Lyric 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 working 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 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