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
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