Maggie’s Farm

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Well, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rain

Got a head full of ideas that are driving me insane

It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor

See, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

And 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, and he hands you a dime

And then he asks you with a grin if you are having a good time

Then 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 more

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more

Well, he puts his cigar out in your face just for kicks

And his bedroom window, well, it's made of bricks

And the National Guard, it stands around his door, yeah

Yeah, I ain't gonna work for

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more

Ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more

No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more

She talks to all the servants about man and God and law

Everyone says that she's the brains behind pa

Well, she's sixty-eight, but she says she's thirty-four

No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

No, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

See, I try my best to be just as I am

But everybody wants you, wants you to be just like them

And they say, "Sing while you slave," but I just get bored

And I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more