Joe Worker

[Ella Hammer]
A story?
Is that what your papers want?
A story?

(sung)
Listen
Here’s a story
Not much fun
And not much glory
Low class
Low down
The thing you never care to see
Until there is a show down
Here it is
I’ll make it snappy
Are you ready?
Everybody happy?

Joe Worker gets gypped
For no good reason, just gypped
From the start until the finish comes
They feed him out of garbage cans
They breed him in the slums

Joe Worker will go
To shops where stuff is on show
He’ll look at the meat
He’ll look at the bread
And too little to eat
Sort of goes to the head

One big question inside me cries:
How many fakers
Peace undertakers
Paid strike breakers
How many toiling, ailing, dying,
Piled-up bodies,
Brother, does it take
To make you wise?

Joe Worker just drops
Right at his working, he drops
Weary, weary
Tired to the core
And then if he drops out of sight
There’s always plenty more

Joe Worker must know
That somebody got him in tow
But what is the good
For one to be cleared
For it takes a lot of Joes
To make a sound you can hear

One big questions inside me cries:
How many frame ups
How many shake downs
Lock outs
Sell outs
How many times machine guns tell the same old story
Brothers, does it take
To make you wise?!