The Working Man
The Working Man
Should have been born with a dorsal fin
That was made to stand proud
Only for time and oppression to cause it fail
Oh, tilikum, we weep
The working man is made to perform
His painted smile so fake
To please his masters, to earn his food
Oh, tyke shot 80 times, we weep
His fighting spirit tamed at the end of a payslip
kept lashed to desk or lathe
watching the time tick away
Tatiana roared just once more, we weep
Man was not made to dance for the man
To count his blessing for heat and to eat
To watch his time on earth deplete
Oh, Stephen, you are the working man. I weep.
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