Maggie's Farm from 1965
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no moreNo, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no moreWell, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rainI got a head full of ideas that are drivin' me insaneIt's a shame, the way she makes me scrub the floor
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
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 dimeHe asks you with a grin if you're havin' a good timeThen he fines you every time you slam the door
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no moreNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no moreWell, he puts his cigar out in your face, just for kicksHis bedroom window, it is made out of bricksThe National Guard stands around his doorI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no moreNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more
Well, she talks to all the servants about man and God and lawEverybody says she's the brains behind paShe's sixty-eight, but she says she's fifty-fourI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
Well, I try my best to be just like I amBut everybody wants you to be just like themThey say, "Sing while you slave" and I just get boredI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
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