Creedence Clearwater - The Working Man lyrics

Well, I was born on a Sunday; On Thursday I had me a job I was born on a Sunday; By Thursday I was working out on the job I aingt never had no day off since I learned right from wrong Mama said I was bad, I did something to her head Mama said I was bad, I did something to her head And poppa threw me out, ooh, said, "I gotta earn my own way." CHORUS: I aingt never been in trouble; I aingt got the time I don't mess around with magic, child What I got is mine Whatever you say, Lord, well, that's what I'm gonna do Whatever you say, well, that's what I'm gonna do 'Cause I'm the Working Man Lord, and I do the job for you CHORUS Every Friday, well, that's when I get paid Don't take me on Friday, Lord 'cause that's when I get paid Let me die on Saturday night, ooh, before Sunday gets my head