Workers’ Lament – Mighty Composer


Workers’ Lament  Mighty Composer [Fred Mitchell], (circa 1970)

Mighty Composer

Mighty Composer

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http://aaequipment.net/?online-custom-essay-writing-service Online Custom Essay Writing Service Oh how my heart goes out to my people
Ah mean the poor and the working class
Who got to work everyday for little or no pay
Until judgment come to pass
They got to make up their minds for pressure
Till the day they going to their graves
Because the rich and powerful master
Keeping them hand to mouth like slaves
 
So they got to keep on working hard
And sweating till they smelling bad
While they praying for the day to done
Ah fuss they tired, oh meh lard
For they got to make enough money
To feed they-self and they family
So can they eat food to be strong enough
To come and work hard, hard, hard.
 
Life is pleasant for who got money
And enjoying all luxuries
But if you poor and got to work daily
Well, every day life is misery
Whether you sick, you tired, or hungry
Day after day you must make believe
In the hardship and pain and sweat in the heat
As you fighting to make ends meet
 
You got to keep on working hard
Sweating till you smelling bad
And in the evening when the sun goes down
Ah fuss you tired, oh meh lad
But you got to make some overtime
Because you really need the extra dime
So you could buy food to be strong enough
To come and work hard, hard, hard
 
Why should my people reach old age?
Ah say why should they reach that stage?
They body break up, they back get bosey
But they still trying to earn a wage
All they years and youth gone in labor
And what they own they could hardly see
But they got the skill and experience of work
While the big boys got the money 
  
They got to keep on working hard
And sweating till they smelling bad
And when the sun is sinking in the west
They going home to rest, oh yes
But they coming back the following day
Because they really, really need the pay
So they could buy food to be strong enough
To come and work hard, hard, hard.
 
No happy life for my people
No big yacht to tour the world
Is only tools and the call of the whistle
From the time they young till they old
And the big boss giving the orders
With no love nor sympathy
Saying that is all you must expect in life from now till eternity
 
You got to keep, on working hard
And sweating till you smelling bad
No rest until the day you die
Don’t bother to cry
Ah tell you why
You got make enough money
To feed yourself and your family
So they could eat  food so they could be strong enough
To come and work hard, hard, hard.

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