Good Job Songtext
von Anthony Savino

said the foreman to the hand, ′it's my role to understand
it′s yours to watch the clock and pull the knob'
then he turned on his heel, walked the rows of pounding steel
beneath his breath said, 'I feel I′ve done a good job′
my great-great-grandfather Ike didn't want to go on strike
but conditions at the mill were miserable
when he fanned the union flame, got a pink slip in his name
he never was the same without a job
knew a guy who worked next door, he ain′t working there no more
no one told him about the oil on the hob
when it spilled all down his knees, cooked his legs a few degrees
workman's comp and legal weed do a good job


best be grateful for the grind, forty hours hard to find
if you ain′t exhausted you must be a slob
when a paycheck's only meant for gas, electric, food, and rent
spend your last two cents resenting a good job
if I could write songs all day, I swear, I′d have a million plays
and a McMansion for some street kid to rob
when I'm tied up on the floor and they drag duffels out the door
I'll say "take a little more, and hey, good job"

I would rather not get paid than be drinking the kool-aid
I would sooner join the circus or the mob
than another nickel throw at failed distraction from sorrow
a life whose only hope is a good job
if the dollars that I owed could a field of flowers grow
every seedling become rose would sing "good job"