Early in the misty misty morning headin' for another freeway jam.
Sleepy eyed and shriverin' wakin' up and wishin' it was Sunday I wish it was Sunday.
On the radio they're playin' love songs songs that make me wanna turn around.
Factory gates are up ahead. I wished that I was home in bed.
With you, right now, back home with you, right now.
But I work to make a living and I work without a break
And I work when I am sleeping and I work when I'm awake
Yes and I'd like to leave the city but I can't afford to move.
And I think I'm going under with them way down lowdown smokey factory blues.
I was born a lover not a worker.
Money doesn't smell like sweet perfume.
Some of us feel out of place- engine oil upon our face.
Believe me you better believe me
But I work to make a living and I work without a break
And I work when I am sleeping and I work when I'm awake
Yes and I'd like to leave the city but I can't afford to move.
And I think I'm going under with them way down, lowdown smokey factory blues.
Yes. I work to make a living and I work without a break
And I work when I am sleeping and I work when I'm awake
Yes and I'd like to leave the city but I can't afford to move. (Fade)
