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Maggie's farm

par Bob Dylan

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I ain´t gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more
No, I aint 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 drivin´ 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 aint 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 havin´ a good time
Then he fines you every time you slam the door
I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s brother more.

I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s pa no more
No, I aint gonna work for Maggie´s pa no more
Well, he puts his cigar
Out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window
It is made out of bricks
The National Guard stands around his door
Ah, I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s pa no more.

I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s ma no more
No, I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s ma no more
Well, when 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 she says she´s fifty-four
I ain´t gonna work for Maggie´s ma no more.

I ain´t gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more
I aint gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more
Well, I try my best
To be just like I am
But everybody wants you
To be just like them
They say sing while you slave and I just get bored
I ain´t gonna work on Maggie´s farm no more.
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