Creedence

     

                                                   

 
ExstrasNewsRevivalTour
        
        Меню сайта          
Partners
 
 


THE WORKING MAN

(J.C. Fogerty)

Well, I was born on a Sunday; On Thursday I had me a job.
I was born on a Sunday; By Thursday I was workin' out on the job.
I ain't never had no day off since I learned right from wrong.

Mama said I was bad, I did something to her head.
Mama said I was bad, I did something to her head.
And poppa threw me out, ooh, said, "I gotta earn my own way."

CHORUS:
I ain't never been in trouble;
I ain't got the time.
I don't mess around with magic, child.
What I got is mine.

Whatever you say, Lord, well, that's what I'm gonna do.
Whatever you say, well, that's what I'm gonna do.
'Cause I'm the Working Man, Lord, and I do the job for you.

CHORUS

Every Friday, well, that's when I get paid.
Don't take me on Friday, Lord, 'cause that's when I get paid.
Let me die on Saturday night, ooh, before Sunday gets my head.



 
            Friends                
    LirycsLirycs
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Centerfield 25Th Anniversary Edition
      
    Lirycs Tabs
    Лучшие песни CCR

    Long Way To Go
    Lay It Down
    Heart's Done Time



     

Все права защищены CCR © 2018