Working on the edge, losing my self-respect
For a man who presides over me
The principles of his creed
Punch in punch out, eight hours, five days a week
Sweat, pain and agony, on Friday I'll get paid
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
Hey mister, don't look down on me for what I believe
I got my bills and the rent, I should go pitch a tent
But our land isn't free
So I'll work my youth away in the place of a machine
I refuse to be a slave
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
