The Hand That Feeds

I've seen good men spoiled
Chained to their jobs like hounds
They work and sleep, and work again
In the darkest nights, they howl

Their cries are a warning
To everyone following
No man should stand to work all of his days
And have nothing at the end of them

I got no money, but the change that jingles in my pockets
Reminding me how little I have
And as for time, I am powerless to stop it
It keeps rambling on like a mad wandering man

My papa was a howlin' man
Traded in his youth
He sold his dreams and all of his days
For the great American ruse

And my dear papa gave me
Lessons in regret
He said all that he'd done would be for nothing
If I followed in his steps

I got no money, but the change that jingles in my pockets
Reminding me how little I have
And as for time, I am powerless to stop it
It keeps rambling on like a mad wandering man

My papa taught me how to howl
How to bear my teeth and growl
He taught me that the hand that feeds
Deserves to be bitten when it beats
He taught me how to break my chains
And that money ain't worth a thing
And that no man should get
More of my time than me, than me

I may never be a rich man
But I can make sure that I am free
I may never be a rich man
But the rich man will never have me, never have me
I may never be a rich man
But I can make sure that I am free
I may never be a rich man
The rich man will never have me, never have me

I got no money, but the change that jangles in my pockets
Reminding me how little I have
But as for time, as for time, it's mine, it's mine