Maggie’s Farm
Writen by: Bob Dylan
I ain´t gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more
No, I ain´t gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more
Well, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rain
I got a head full of ideas that are drivin´ me insane
It´s a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
I ain´t gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more
I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s brother no more
No, I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s brother no more
Well, he hands you a nickel, he hands you a dime
He asks you with a grin if you´re having a good time
Then he fines you every time you slam the door
I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s brother no more
I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s Pa no more
No, I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s Pa no more
Well, he puts his cigar out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window, it is made out of bricks
The National Guard stands around his door
Ah, I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s Pa no more
I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s Ma no more
No, I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s Ma no more
Well, she talks to all the servants about man and God and law
Everybody says she´s the brains behind Pa
She´s 68, but she says she´s 54
I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s Ma no more
I ain´t gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more
I ain´t gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more
Well, I try my best to be just like I am
But everybody wants you to be just like them
They say "Sing while you slave" and I just get bored
Ah, I ain´t gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more
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