Working for a tyrant, making you sweat blood,
Want the same amount of bricks, boys – all you got’s mud,
He don’t provide no transport, he likes to see you walk,
Why doesn’t someone help them?
But all they ever do is talk, that’s right,
Here we go.
Standing in the dole queue, searching for a pen,
Things ain’t really changed; like this is now and that was then,
They don’t provide no buses, they like to see you walk,
Why don’t we go and them?
But all we ever do is talk, that’s right,
Play, boy.
Well, you’re working for a tyrant and he’s making you sweat blood,
Want the same amount of bricks, boys – all you got’s mud,
He don’t provide no transport, he likes to see you walk,
Why don’t we go and them?
All we ever do is talk, that’s right.
