Sunday, May 2, 2010


I may never have your riches or own a fancy yacht
And I know you hired those snitches with the pay i should have got

I'll never afford the food or the holidays you enjoy
My life is more subdued with the pleasures i employ

You said you wanted more even though the blood was shed
But the working mans no whore and won't roll over in his bed

Unlike the scabs i payed my fee and tryed to get ahead
And when i die they'll remember me and know i never hung my head.

No comments:

Post a Comment