The Working Blues

The squeeze upon my jugular Is all too much to bear I wish to turn the hold on them But life just isn’t fair The working man is meant to work He’ll never get ahead But we must keep the tedious roles To satisfy our debts When I was single, I never cared I’d tell them to piss off But as a father, husband, provider I take it now and cough I hold it back, suppress it so Which is a big mistake Because one day I may explode Or die from a headache