The Working Man Lyrics - Complete Studio Albums - Creedence Clearwater Revival

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.