Waitin til my dyin day
Thats when I pack these tired blues away
Thats when I go to lay down in my grave
Thatll be my flyin day

Wondering what Im workin for
Aint gonna be your lowdown dog no more
Aint gonna bleach an scrub your kitchen floor
I wonder what Im workin for

Making tiny feet for shoes
Didnt have the right to pick n choose
Didnt know the freedom I would lose
In making tiny feet for shoes

Working dozen to the nine
Feels like Im just servin time
Waitin in this goddamn line
Hell or heaven Ill be fine

Cookin nothing in the pan
Thats the way life dealt my hand
Thatll be my livin last demand
To get something from this land

Playin around the toes of time
Waiting for the spark thatll free my mind
Thatll put unhappiness behind
Just looking for an exit sign

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