Lyrics

Working on the edge, losing my self-respect
For a man who presides over me
The principles of his creed
Punch in punch out, eight hours, five days a week
Sweat, pain and agony, on Friday I'll get paid

This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic

Lyrics continue below...

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Hey mister, don't look down on me for what I believe
I got my bills and the rent, I should go pitch a tent
But our land isn't free
So I'll work my youth away in the place of a machine
I refuse to be a slave

This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic
This ain't no picnic

Writer(s): Dennes Dale Boon

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