Maggie's Farm

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 driving 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 for kicks
His bedroom window is made out of bricks
The National Guard stands around his door
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more

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 says she's fifty-one-two-three-four
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more
No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more
No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more

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
I ain't gonna
I ain't gonna
I ain't gonna
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

No



Credits
Writer(s): Bob Dylan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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