Truth of a American Working Man

Half the time I am allways pretending
Truth is the stress is never ending
Work my fingers to the bone
Break my back, then go home
My hand are cracked blister and bleed 
Earning my pay to meet our needs

I hate my job
But have no choice
Responsabilities pile
Losing my voice

Work four hours
For a fifteen minute break
Forty hours dont earn to much
After taxes dont have much to take
Bill collectors want their share
Dont have enough but they dont care

I hate my job
But have no choice
Responsabilities pile
Losing my voice
Days fly by
At a rapid pace
Losing myself
In this rat race

Alarm is ringing
Get up its time to leave
The boss hates me
This I believe
All he does is yell
And say he wants more work out of me
But he doesnt pay enough
Must want me to work for free

When he leaves
He goes to his beautiful house
In his fancy car
To his wife in a brand new blouse
Not getting ahead
We are just scraping by
We dont have enough
I just dont know why

Truth is I hate my job
But have no choice
Responsabilities pile
Losing my voice
Days fly by
At a rapid pace
Losing my soul
In this rat race

Going home to my wife and kids
She is cooking, I help unloosen tight lids
Time to play
Then send the kids off to bed
Kiss them goodnight
Then try to rest my weary head
The night will fly by
It will be soon to go
To deal with tomorrows problems
This life is all I know

Truth is this life is so demanding
Dont know how I am even standing
Work to better my families life
Want a better chance for my kid
For his future children and his wife
I am American Working Man
Not a ordinary fool
Force my children
To do good in school

I am teaching them
This is not a life to have
There has to be a better path
So today I go back to work
Listen to my bosses rants
Knowing he is a wealthy jerk
Again I will work
To my fingers bleed
To earn my meager pay
To meet my families needs

I hate my job
I have no choice
The pressure piles
I lose my voice
Years fly by
At a rapid pace
Lost my identity
In this rat race


D.B. Johnson