Back-Breaking Prick (For My Bossman)
I have a job making things with my hands…
Building this and that as the bossman demands…
Blood, sweat and tears rolling down my back…
As he cruises on the site in his long white cadillac…
43 years I’ve been living on this earth…
Doing what I’m told to sustain my worth…
I‘m getting kinda tired and a little bit sick…
Of killing myself for some back-breaking prick.
Got some thoughts on my mind and a beer in my hand…
A thing or two to say and I hope you understand…
I don’t like to hate but I kinda relate…
Break my back to put food on my bossman’s dinner plate…
Puny little paycheck is keeping me down…
Earning just enough to keep me around…
So I’m gonna make a change and I gotta be quick…
I’m not going down for some back-breaking prick.
Now don’t get me wrong, I have a smile on my face…
Was looking for a job when I found this place…
I’m feeling dilly-illy-willy with my silly little smile…
Like a giddy witty kiddie trippin’ billies for awhile…
I have a new job awaitin’, just debatin’ the time…
Making changes, rearranging, cutting chains that bind…
Don’t ever get enslaved to a thing that makes you sick…
Life’s too short to spend it dying for a back-breaking prick.
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