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Every day is a Monday In the house up on the hill They're taking out the windows But we're working up there still Till the sun goes down You can hear the wheels go round And I'll slave away Saving all I can Till then I'm working Working for the fat man Looking out the window As I dream any colored dreams Swaying to the rhythm Of the sound of the machines Till the sun goes down You can hear the wheels go round Between you and me I've taken all I can But I'm still working Working for the fat man I'm never going to work I'm never going to work for that fat man again But I'm stuck on the line Stuck on the line till I'm sixty-five Hey look out jack Going to break your back And your face will sag And your bones will crack Till they send you down For a couple of years In shadow town Living without breathing Isn't everything it seems Swaying to the rhythm Of the sound of machines Till the sun goes down You can hear the wheels go round And I'll slave away Saving all that I can Till then I'm working Working for the fat man
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