Work You to Death
Make me a county song that is catch with good rhythm like Luke combs about a job that doesn't care about your well being and all they want is to work you to death.
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Lyrics
[Verse]
Clock ticks five, the whistle screams again,
Boots hit the gravel, another day to bend.
Foreman’s watchin’, got no time for slack,
They tally your hours but won’t give ’em back.
[Verse]
Lunch pail’s empty, just a cold black brew,
Promises broken like the soles of my shoes.
They take your sweat and call it “company pride,”
But the only raise you’ll get is dirt when you die.
[Chorus]
Oh, the workin’ man’s blues ain’t free,
They’ll grind you down like a dollar machine.
Punch the clock, bleed the day,
Till the only thing left is a name on a grave.
[Chorus]
Oh, the workin’ man’s blues ain’t free,
Corporate kings got their hands on the keys.
They’ll steal your youth, sell your time,
While the bankers laugh on the overtime.
[Verse]
Friday comes, but the checks don’t add,
Rent’s due Monday and the kids need pads.
They’ll call you “family” when the profits roll,
But cut you loose when the market’s cold.
[Chorus]
Oh, the workin’ man’s blues ain’t free,
They’ll grind you down like a dollar machine.
Punch the clock, bleed the day,
Till the only thing left is a name on a grave.
[Chorus]
Oh, the workin’ man’s blues ain’t free,
Corporate kings got their hands on the keys.
They’ll steal your youth, sell your time,
While the bankers laugh on the overtime.
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