Текст песни Creedence Clearwater Revival - The Working Man

Текст:

Creedence 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 working out on the job. I aingt 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 aingt never been in trouble; I aingt 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. CHORUS 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.

;