Maggie’s Farm, written 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 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 havin’ 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 sixty-eight, but she says she’s twenty-four I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more 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 try my best To be just like I am But everybody wants you To be just like them They sing while you slave and I just get bored I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more

Теги других блогов: music Bob Dylan Maggie's Farm