The factory workers are striking today
They want less hours, and demand more pay
The administration says "That's too much,"
"The strikers use us for a crutch."

I got a job on the assembly line
My shift is usually three to nine
I'm making four hundred a week
Is this the life I want to seek?

Got a job
Got my pay
Get my work done
Everyday.
Getting tired
Go out late
Slowly I
Fill with hate.

Walked past the picketers, on to work
They tried to stop me, said I was a jerk
I say I'm non-union - they say I should be killed
Dropped into the river - my bones chilled.

I'm tired of the assembly line
I'm tired of three to nine
I only spend a hundred a week
Where is the life that I seek?