Lyrics
Here I am spending my life down among the kielbasa
Making your lunchmeat, hot spicy sausage and dogs
You can count what I make, that's the reason they call it production
So how come it's you that's living so high on the hog?
Sometimes I wonder what CEOs do in an hour
When I see your picture you're talking away on the phone
Shaking some hand or jetting away to a meeting
You're sure not down here on the floor with the gristle and bone
You make eight thousand eight hundred twenty-five dollars an hour
Seventy thousand and six hundred dollars a day
That's more than ten million a year, I just can't see it from here
What lets you deserve to be making a killing this way?
Sometimes I dream I'm sitting up there in your office
You're working here on the floor for the rest of your life
It's real work down here, but I know in my heart you can do it
The way you cut jobs, you've gotta be good with a knife
You cut five hundred jobs and you think that you're being a leader
Me and my friends on the floor think it's old-fashioned greed
We can do the right thing and hire them all back tomorrow
If we cut back on you, we'll have all the payroll we need
You make eight thousand eight hundred twenty-five dollars an hour
Seventy thousand and six hundred dollars a day
That's more than ten million a year, I just can't see it from here
What lets you deserve to be making a killing this way?